Ah, the familiar queezy feeling....

I am blogging to you now from my brand new laptop on the way to work. Ill be writing this entry all day when I get the chance. Probably wont finish till tonight. There's something sticky on my space bar, I’m very hung over. I have to go to work on a Saturday fighting a hangover. Fan Fucking tastic.
A lot has been going on in my life lately. Spunky and I are are going through a bit of a rough patch. Last Thursday he said to me that he was feeling very dispassionate about life, and that included our relationship. So I said okay, and gave him some time to work out his feelings. Then we’d meet up on Saturday, (Valentines day) and see whats what. Needless to say, I was a wreck for two days. I barely slept, barely ate. I just couldn’t force food down my throat. Even though my stomach was screaming at me for sustenance and I wasn’t feeling well, whenever I tried to eat anything larger than half a sandwich I felt like I was going to throw up.
So, Saturday rolls around and I’m convinced that Spunky will pull the ol’ “Lets just be friends” thing. I couldn't handle that. He’s the first guy that said that he loved me….and wasn’t my father, brother, other family member or random creepy guy. He’s the first guy I've ever slept with. Basically, I love him to pieces, and the idea of being friends and seeing him and not being able to touch him, kiss him, and be in his arms is torture.
I came home from work Saturday after being in tears on and off and walking through a shopping centre all decked out for the holiday, and a co-worker being given 1o long stemmed roses from a guy who’s asked her out on a date, and while in the shower I come to the conclusion that if hes dumping me on Valentines day that I need to look smoking, slamming hot. So I wear a skirt that I know he likes, and make sure I look…..well, decent, I guess is what I settled for.
I meet him on the train to the movies, and we sat there with a seat between us. He stroked my hand, smiled. We got to Southland and found the line for tickets was huuuuuuuuuuuge!!!!!!!! Evidently they could only find one or two desperate single employees to work the shift. So we say “fuck that” and grab some food, figuring we can catch the train back a couple of stations and walk along the beach to get home.
Well, while we were sitting at the station he took the sunglasses off my face, stroked my chin and smiled. I couldn’t help it – I sort of half hugged him, half collapsed on his shoulder. I was entranced by thee smell of him once again and our feces were millimetres apart……. Then the train showed up and we got on. Spunky brushed the hair out of my eyes and kissed me. He then said that he still felt the same.
So we went down to the beach, and there was a good jazz orchestra playing nearby so we hung out there for a while. Then it got dark and cold, so we went back to crash at his.
I thought we were back on track. I didn’t see him again after that until Wednesday, when we hung out with some mates and I spent the nights at his again. Then Thursday afternoon…. He says he’s still feeling off and has been thinking about ‘the mortality of our relationship.’ So after tears and stopping an annoyingly ironic Joe Cocker album from playing, I told him he needed to go away, figure himself out and let me know when he did. Once he left, I cried for all of 5 seconds before heading to the fridge – jackpot. Two half bottles of white wine. I was on the couch watching NCIS dvds and well on my way to being fully trashed by the time my brother got home from school. I didn’t have work the next day, so what did it matter? I jumped on MSN and found my very good and close girl friend, whom in this blog shall be referred to as GorgeousGoth. She was free Friday, and agreed to come over midday and get completely pissed up. I figured as long as I was reasonably sober by the time I went to bed, I’d be fine for work the next day.
I wake up Friday morning feeling queasy and not able to eat much. I watched an episode of a TV show I downloaded… and got a phone call from the boss. Two of the girls were off sick and they needed me in to work. I need the money. I called GG and re-scheduled our get together until after work.
So, after an absolutely horribly busy day of working in a job I despise, I finally meet GG and we buy some grog, head back to my place and proceed to get plastered while watching season 2 of The Mighty Boosh, followed by our new favourite movie REPO! The Genetic Opera – to which we sang all of the songs. We assigned each other characters. I got to be Graverobber. It was a fuuuuuuuuuuuun night. Between us we went through 4 Smirnoff mixers, 4 smirnoff double blacks, half a bottle of straight midouri, half a bottle of straight orange curacao, and half a bottle of tequila. We didn’t pay a lot of attention to Across the Universe – the next film we put on – except to sing ‘Little Help From My Friends’ at the top of our lungs. Eddie Izzard’s Dressed to kill barely even got a laugh – we were crying and hugging each other and telling each other things that we would never have said sober . We’re repressed people.
So, I wake up the next morning, and GG heads home and is feeling fine when I spoke to her later. I am riding the magical porcelain bus for a half hour, and then I was off to work.
I'm home from work now. Damn it was bad. There were three of us with hangovers. I got noooooooooo sympathy.
I don’t want to lose Spunky. Still. If he does end up wanting me back (which is looking more unlikely by the hour) he’s got a lot of work to do.