For Once...

For once, I would nearly kill to have him coddle me...I hate being babied and coddled. I hate it with a fiery passion to rival the sun. I like my pain to be recognized, of course, but I hate to be coddled. But right now, more than anything, I just want to curl up and cry because I just HURT and all I want is to see him and to cry on his shoulder and let out my pain instead of keeping the emotional pain and stress bottled up and any damn excuse to see him would be fantastic.

My father has dumped a lot of work on me. I'm not bothered by the amount of work, no, but I am bothered and now stressed the hell out over the time crunch on the work. Part of the time crunch is my own damn fault because I planned everything out and rushed myself when I know I have more time. But I want to get it done and over with...There probably wouldn't be a problem if more work from other sources hadn't been slapped on my agenda.

In my efforts to get things done quicker, I have succeeded in cutting my finger, cutting my face because I tripped in the garage and the board smacked me near my eye, crushed my hand (nothing's broken), needed to wrap up two of my fingers, dehydrated myself, and now my peripheral neuropathy has made an appearance. And my back hurts, too.

For my father, I've had to make certificates and put ribbons on nametags for a symposium (all needed to be done today and are finished), put a stupid chair together after painting it (which hurt my hand in the first place, the painting), start painting ANOTHER chair (which I will also have to put together), and clear rocks from the back yard.

For my boyfriend, I've been stressing the hell out over being his editor. I can't find the time to finish editing the freaking bare-bones beginning of his novel, and I feel so bad that it's not entirely done yet (all I had to do was clean it up and present the corrected piece to him!). And, to make things worse, a good chunk of my corrections were lost to the abyss of deletion at some point in the night, so I'm kind of screwed on that. All those notes and corrections...Just...gone. POOF! Into nothingness. (I don't even have to do this, but I want to help him with this and I am a grammar Nazi - my best friend says I'm grammar Hitler - so correcting his work is my heaven AND my hell.)

And then I have the tasks that I have brought on myself. The first is going through my room like a damn hurricane and just going nuts on cleaning. I've graduated, you see, so there's a LOT of things that I need to start getting rid of. This includes old schoolwork, old papers of any sort that have no value, old worksheets, and just random crap that needs to go. And I have boxes in a separate closet that had trash in them, so I've thrown all that away and put non-essential things into them and they are now back in that other closet. And I've taken it upon myself to start compiling all my old work because I may publish (as people keep telling me to do), so I'm going through tons of papers in case that happens and transferring all my poetry to the computer. It doesn't seem like much, but you really have no idea how much there is...

So, in sum...I'm stressed as hell and I, for once, would like to be coddled and held and loved and I would like to just cry out my stress on the shoulder of the one I love, the one who inspires me like no one else (though I have yet to tell him I've been rather inspired lately by him, more inspired than usual), the one who makes me feel the happiest and like I have nothing to fear. (Other than losing someone so supportive and caring and kind to me...)

Bah. I need to go.

Bye, bye!