Bouncing up and fucking down.

It's like a weight has been lifted.

Sometimes you just need a good cometoJesus to release your soul, all the pent up sad and crazy and worry.  I thought I was saying the right words before, but maybe I wasn't.  "If we didn't have this talk tonight, if I didn't say these things to you, if you didn't propose within the next year, I would leave."  I said it.  That evil thing that was building in the back of my mind, that poison that was tainting my utopia.  I said the words - the ones that needed to be said, "This is what I have to have to be happy.  This is what I need.  We have needs and wants in relationships, and this is what I need."

We came together, we drifted, we wandered far apart, but in the end, we met in the middle, with love and understanding, and we're back in the place we've always been.  We're good.  We're safe. All is right with the world.

I cried myself to sleep last night, sick in my heart with fear and sad.  Tonight, I'm light like a feather, knowing we're good, having confirmation of that fact I knew in my heart but needed to know with my ears.

Tomorrow I'll spend several hours in the car with my boss.  I'm feeling mighty brave and strong tonight, Friends.  I have my power outfit planned and ready, down to the comfy no-line panties and the bright pink argyle socks.  (Those are just for my particular comfort, for the record.  I'm not planning to show our customers my panties or my socks.  But you never know.  My boss hired me because I showed him my socks during my interview...)

I need a raise.  I've been stewing about it for months, and the time has come where I've just got to ask or I'm going to build up so much resentment that I'll grow to hate my job and I don't want to hate my job because as crazy as it is, I fucking love it there.  I do.  I get pissed off all the time and frustrated as hell, but I love it, and I don't want to go anywhere else.  But I need to be compensated for the work I'm doing, and that's never going to happen if I don't make my needs known.  See, in relationships, all relationships, we have needs, and we have wants.  The fact is, for me to continue my happy relationship with my employer, I need to make more money.  They want to make as much money as possible, I need to make enough money to play well when I'm not there making money for them.

Does any of this even make sense?  I don't really care if it does.  I'm pretty sure I'll understand it when I read it again tomorrow.  A weight has been lifted.  I'm feeling pretty fucking invincible.  I'm going to make an ass out of myself tomorrow and I'll come back here tomorrow night crying about how I thought I had this but I really didn't.

No I won't.

I won't write again for days because I'll be all embarrassed and then I'll write about something totally dumb because I'll want to pretend I never wrote this entry.

And if I'm not engaged this time next year, I'll come back and delete this shit, too.

I read something the other day that said that in ten years we won't need resumes, we'll just use our online profiles when applying for jobs.

Fuck me, I hope I don't have to ever change jobs again.