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And I make such a good statistic someone should study me now, somebody's gotta be interested in how I feel, just cuz I'm here and I'm real
Written at 10:04 a.m. on Wednesday, May. 28, 2003

I have no room to complain...at all.

I think my problem is that I've been unhappy for so long, that I've made a life out of it. I donít know how to fully sit back and enjoy life. Does that make any sense?

In reality, I have nothing to complain about. I really have so much. Much more than I ever thought I'd have.

I thought about it last night. I pictured how my life would be right now if I had stayed in Baltimore. And I didnít like that image very much. I had nothing when I left. I mean nothing. I have so much more in my life right now.

Despite the fact that I work in hell...with fluorescent lighting...I make good money for putting up with the crap that goes on here.

I have wonderful people in my life. I've made some friendships that will carry on for a long time. Even though a lot of us have moved (or are about to move...sniff, sniff) away, we continue to keep in touch.

And as much as I complain about the boyfriend...he's not all that bad either. Still needs a little tweaking here and there, but overall another positive thing in my life.

I miss my family more than anything. Seeing them again after 8 years was hard. You tend not to miss what's not there...until its there and then isnít. I'll never get back all of those missed birthdays and holidays.

Speaking of birthdays...his went over pretty well. I got home last night and was still upset about all that happened at work. Nine years later and I still have trouble sometimes leaving it at the door on my way out.

But that didnít stop me from letting him enjoy his day. Which I hope that he did. We sat and talked for a while. He's hurting in so many different ways and none of them I can help him in. That pains me.

We were sitting and listening to the kids playing outside and he started talking about his daughters and how the little girl outside sounds just like his. I can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice every time he talks about them. I can only imagine how I'd feel if that were me and those were my kids.

Then just before he left to go to work, he told me that no one called him all day. Not his mother, not his father, not his sister, not even his friends. I felt so bad. After spending nine birthdays out here practically all by myself, I understood how he felt. Alone. And that's never a good feeling.

Later on, I went out to get him a gift. I was still at a loss. Its not like I was putting this off at the last moment or that the thought wasnít there. If anything, I wasted time putting too much thought into it. He's been mentioning that he wanted a corner floor lamp for the room so I went out and got him one. I also got him a clock. That was more of a joke than anything. He has this thing with clocks. I'm always coming home and finding a new clock somewhere. Itís cute though.

(but instead of the outside being yellow, his is silver)

So next time I'm ranting and raving about something stupid, will someone please remind me of all the good things I have in my life that I should be happy for. And that I'm not allowed to bitch.

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