My new roommate got drunk and told me he has a crush on me last night.

GROAN.

He's been living here for a little over a week, and while he has not quite reached the level of verbal obnoxiousness that B has, NR (which is short for new roommate) does engage in the same annoying room-entering and lingering behavior.

In fact, he spent what must've been at least an hour today reading a book on my bed. I was busy at the computer, mostly ignoring him, which is, I have found, the most effective way of getting people to go away. It does come with the unfortunate consequence of making them think I hate them, but c'est la vie.

When he mentioned liking me, I may have mentioned that is exactly like shitting where you eat. Plus I'm not even attracted to him.

Oh, and I'm in love with another man.

Who, by the way, was totally cool with me getting finger fucked by a girl, but...really. Who wouldn't be?

I got a cd player installed in my car. My dad got me a gift card to cover the installation and harness. It's been nearly three years. I came in my pants on the ride home from Best Buy while I was listening to NPR news. It was that good.

My new job. What to say about my new job. The time passes quickly. That's about it. I don't really like anyone, but I'm not there to make friends. I don't really like the work, but I'm getting paid $11.50 an hour to sit on my ass for 8 hours a day and answer phones and assist stupid people. That's pretty much a fair trade.

I found pictures of me and my ex in my art supplies box today.

I feel fucking weird looking at those pictures.

Fuck it. I know better than that.

I told MC a true story about me and my ex the other day.

He and I used to fight a lot, mostly about me not wanting sex. Sometimes we'd just go to bed angry, others I'd try to sleep on the floor. Every time but one, he was able to convince me to get back into the bed. There was one night, after we'd had dinner with our friends, that we had a particularly nasty fight. I fell asleep on the floor. He couldn't convince me to get back in the bed. When I woke up, I was in the bed. I guess he put me there during the night.

I don't know why I keep writing about him. I don't know why I keep thinking about how great it would have been if our relationship hadn't been so fucked up. It's the biggest thing that's happened to me emotionally, I guess.

I have a head ache. I'm tired. I'm glad tomorrow is Sunday and I don't have to work.

I wish I didn't have to work.

I'm whining, but I feel like doing that right now.

I feel like wallowing in self pity. I know I probably need a good cry, but I don't have enough bottled emotion for that. I'm just dull right now. I feel dead. I wish I could care about something other than the fact that I don't care about anything else.