When I was driving home from work tonight, it occurred to me that in terms of balancing work and school, I really have my shit together right now. I'm kicking it all straight in the ass and it feels pretty damn good. Of course, there's not much standing between myself and overwhelming stress, but for the time being, I'm doing pretty well. And I feel vainly good about that.

I'm also pretty proud of myself because I just got done talking to Bridget and for the first time in our entire relationship, through all of it's romantic and unromantic stages, I asserted my opinion without regard to how she would react. She wanted to hang out this week while she was home on break which I knew she was going to do and which I intended to comply with even though I didn't want to because I really wanted things to seem okay. But in the end I said to hell with it and told her that I was in a good place and that right now her presence would feel like an invasion and it would fuck things up. I think that evetually it will be okay, but only if I stop pretending that it is already and give myself that time and the space to work all this shit out and let it become okay on it's own. And in the mean time, she can just fucking wait. And telling her that seems like such a trivial thing, but it's huge for me because if there's anything that I'm not, it's honest. And I don't mean that I lie in a grade-school sense, but I bullshit like no one else and I come up with the most brilliant excuses and I deny every ugly reality like no one else and I hate it. I absolutely hate it. But I'd like to think that I'm getting better and I would like to think that as insignificant as that conversation may have seemed, that it was that tiny bit of progress made manifest.

Or maybe I'm just in a crazy mood tonight.

I need to go to bed.

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