Listening to Luther

Man. Creeping (the live version) was a good song.

Anyway.

I feel like I'm being a bitch. And I don't like feeling like that. I feel all bottled up like I'm choking, because basically I'm being a bitch on the inside. On the outside I smile, and I'm a happy devoted house-girlfriend that wants to take care of her man. But on the inside, I'm cringing at the sound of his whine. I just hate it when men whine.

But ultimately I have to take the good with the bad. So he whines when he's sick, he also sings to me when I go to sleep. So he has a tendency to bitch out when sick. He still danced with me and cooked with me. He is still the man that I'm crazy about, and I have to accept all of him or none of him. I can't pick and choose. I just wish he coulda held it down better. The whining really affected me in a horrible way. And it's not like I can just go and say, "look babe, I really want to beat the shit outta you with your shoe when you whine, so don't do that, m'kay?" I mean, he's ill. I can't be mean to the ill. And then it would probably hurt his feelings if I said that when he was better. So basically I have to keep it to myself. And be mad, all by myself because I'm afraid he's gonna be an eternal sick baby like my damn dad.

Oh fuck me.

I just think I'd be better if I could go to my own home.

I want a fuckin tuna sandwich. I mean, I can taste this damn sandwich. I am so depressed that I don't have one.

Anyway.

I know I should call and check on him again, I guess I'll call him around 12 and see if he's eaten anything today or at least drank a lot of water. I know he'll get dehydrated if he doesn't. I'm so tired I can't work. I'm really just sitting on my ass. Luckily there isn't too much I need to do. I just wish I could sleep. Well lemme go make myself do something since I don't have a damn tuna sandwich.

I'm out.