Smondays.

As expected this weekend was rough. I promised myself I wouldn't sulk and hide away from the world and feel miserable and tired and depressed. But that did not happen. I did all of that.

 Saturday started off okay enough and I thought maybe I would survive the weekend unscathed.
I'm trying to tone up and have started running in the mornings as my only form of exercise. I am so used to being on my feet all day that I am nervous that my sedentary office job will cause me to gain weight. I generally am not a person who cares about weight gain or loss but I must admit I like being slight. I like being slender and quick. I like not taking up a lot of space. And i'd like to maintain this for as long as my body allows.

So i jog.. Particularly,  in the morning because I feel less anxious doing so when people are around.  On Saturday I woke up super early so I could run to the pond that's about a mile from my house. Running has and always will be a very relaxing and cathartic thing for me. I like the way my lungs feel while jogging. I like the way my legs push forward. I like being in control along the path i choose.

On my way back from the pond, I stopped by the post office to grab mailing boxes, bought food and coffee from the local diner and  stopped at the farmers market for flowers. It was a pleasant and easy morning. It was an obvious and deliberate attempt to distract myself from Marie but it worked temporarily.

I had tentative plans to see Krumpus with a friend and maybe hit up some dealerships later in the day but Heather was busy and had to reschedule the movie and I didn't want to go to any dealerships alone. So i decided to read, clean up a bit around my apartment, dance uncoordinated to some new tunes and binge watch a show on Netflix. If I had a car I might have gone ice skating because every year around Marie's death, I like being on the ice. It's akin to running in many ways for me.

Unfortunately my good mood started to decline late into the evening. Kat was still bugging me about going bowling for her brothers birthday and I could not understand why she was so adamant that I attend. I love Kat. I really do. I know I love her because I can be super critical of her need too smother. I admit that I am not an easy person to love. Sean often accused me of being dismissive when he tried to show affection. And while he was not a boy who loved me as equally as I loved him, he was right in many ways.

I am so used to being the one who cares for others that when someone tries to offer it to me, I resist. I resist hard. I find it as an invasion of my privacy. So when I told Kat that this was going to be a rough weekend, as I do every year, I was hoping she'd let me be. She'd leave me alone to process my thoughts and life. That she'd respect that for two days out of the year I am just inaccessible.  But she wouldn't and didn't. After texting me about her bro's birthday, she kept texting me about random things. Things that I had no interest in being apart of . Things I simply did not care about,

Eventually I responded back that she just needed to give me space and let deal with whatever I was dealing with instead of being so intrusive. Even though I know she was trying to be there for me and perhaps distract me from the weekend...i also felt that she wanted to be apart of that day because it is something that she will never have access too. Kat's the kind of person that if something is off limits it makes it more desirable. And for once, or twice, i didn't need her to take claim of something that I need to be mine and mine alone.

 Of course, I didn't say any of this via text. Instead I literally wrote: "yo, you need to let me chill and mourn my friend. everything else at the moment is irrelevant. I'm sorry" We didn't talk the rest of the weekend and when I texted her this morning this is what I got back:

Le sigh. 

 I must admit that envy and jealousy are two of my biggest faults. I am excited for other people's happiness, I really am,  but sometimes, especially when it's someone close to me, I am often filled with envy at their good fortune. It's hard to write it any other way without sounding like a dick, so I am not going to hide behind it. Sometimes I am a dick. There I said it.

While Kat and I are super close I cannot help how envious I am of her. I am envious that things seem to come easy to her or that the people in her life, especially me, make things simple for her. At the moment  I am super freaking annoyed by this car debacle and envious that she has a new car.I am super peeved that '[you] made buying a new car sound so easy...so you, know i deserve to get a new one too". Obviously I know that things will fall into my lap at the right time. I have to be patient. I also have to and should be excited for her. But I am not and I am not proud of this.

Instead I am only partial to these reactions. Where I should feel elated and happy,  I am annoyed that the moment and achievement couldn't have been mine and mine alone. Sure, she was and is free to get new things. Sure, her wanting a new car could have been a long time coming. But because I know, as she has told me repeatedly, that her decision to get a car was hugely influenced by my own..i can't help but feel robbed of the moment. Of having this thing to cap off such a tremendous year for me. It just feels like she stole my groove and like Stella I just want it back.

More importantly, this car thing is probably just a symbol for how I am often annoyed that things do not feel like mine. That when I need something or some day or some achievement to be my own Kat HAS to be apart of it and not in a way that is supportive. I am a huge fan of supporting women who get shit done! I  super supportive of women who have each other's back as we try to have it all. But Kat sometimes does not bring much to the table in this department. She waits for others to do things for her and latches on. It's as if she is always there in the background, lurking and taking notes and then expediting a version of the change faster. Or worse at the same freaking time. It's exhausting.

 With her, I am always  responsible for lighting the spark but am then left in the shadow of what it has ignited. Sometimes I wish she could provide the same in return.  It's petty I know, but as I stated before I'm a dick. Worse than that i am a  jealous one.

I am trying to work my way out of this funk and general bad mood. I am thinking about bringing this up to her delicately but as of right now I can't come up with the right words to express how I am feeling. So instead i am sort of being a passive aggressive dick who can't come to terms with change that isn't my own. Despite how I feel, I am grateful that I survived this weekend, so I am hoping the Christmas spirit kicks in soon. Like real soon! I could use a pick me up. I could use some inspiration. I could use a break from this malcontent.

In totally unrelated news, I saw Fifty Shades of Grey this weekend because..you know, curiosity is a helluva drug. I have not laughed that loud in a very very long time and I am grateful for the sheer silliness of the movie. There are several moments in the actors performance where you can tell they are like 'you know what...fuck it...this shit is dumb' followed by campy dialogue or explicit sex scene. The content, subject matter and lifestyle are not foreign too me. I am not that much of a prude.  There are things I leave out for a reason.

I did read the first book long before it was released in stores (there was no reason to continue the series about book 1)  and was underwhelmed to say the least. If it weren't for Jamie Dornan (who is beautiful) I would have skipped the movie altogether. But alas, I didn't because I am a sucker for a hot british dude. While the movie was pretty shitty, as was the book,  I can appreciate a really dumb flick that knows it is dumb.  I  can also appreciate actors taking part in said movie because it pays the bills. So while I was un- titillated i sure was tickled. And it did help me out of my sadness this weekend...even if the sadness was replaced by sheer mortification.