Saturday, February 08, 2014

*sigh*

he’s one damn fine human being…

In case you can’t read that:
Amberly: I need this retweeted by you to show my family that being gay isn’t always something you choose. They think I’m broken. Please. @Markgatiss

Mark Gatiss: Not a choice @Amberly29519238 - a gift. Be happy and strong. x

(For those not in the know, although I have no idea how you can not know this if you’re a regular reader, Mark Gatiss (pronounced GAY-tiss, BTW) is a co-creator and writer on my beloved Sherlock (BBC). He’s also written for Doctor Who. And… he’s married. To a dude.)

This isn’t the first time he’s done something like this, and I totally adore him because of it.

It almost offsets the Moffat factor. But not by too much, since he still lets Moffat write episodes of Sherlock. *sigh*

——

In a more serious note, my divorcing friend pissed me off the other day.

I’d finally had enough and snapped at them via text.

Told them that they seriously needed to figure out how to rewire themselves. This default position of wanting to give up and/or threatening suicide (it’s really one and the same, isn’t it?), is old, is tired, and is not fair to those of us that love them.

I mean, seriously, I’m starting to feel that it’s a cry for attention. At any rate, it’s fucking obnoxious.

And I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but it felt good to call them out on it.

I mean, me, of all people, saying something like that… to someone I feel is shattered beyond repair.

I’m an arsehole… I know that.

I haven’t heard from them since, and I’m (frighteningly) OK with that.

There has been too much drama, and despite my promises to tolerate it, and not walk away, I just can’t deal with it.

They wonder why they’re getting divorced…

If they could only read the texts they sent me from my point of view - or even their spouse’s - they’d see just what sort of damage they’re capable of inflicting and why we’re not willing to put up with it.

I offered to let them live with us because I felt like I was backed into a corner - suicide or a homeless shelter - and neither one is acceptable.

I shouldn’t have made the offer. Once things calmed down, it hit me hard what an amazingly terrible idea that is.

I can’t handle them from a distance… living with them has the potential to absolutely destroy me.

So now, I’m back where I started from - wanting to run as far as them as I possibly can, and needing to stay and support them as long as they make the right decision, of course.

Can’t stand by and support a dead person, can I?

——

In happier news, my boss absolutely loves me. He said as much yesterday.

I got my business cards. If that’s not a sign of permanence, I don’t know what is.

I got an official invite from the Department of Athletics to go to their monthly finance meeting. The other staff accountant didn’t, and he’s the one who is supposed to be working for them full time. I’m supposed to be working for the other building we manage, which is not affiliated with the University in any way, shape, or form.

It makes me wonder - especially since everything’s been so confused and fucked up because of the mess we were thrown into on day one - what my role actually is is. What I’m being groomed for. I have my ideas, of course, and they thrill me beyond belief.

I tell everyone who asks how much I love this job, and it’s the truth. I could not be happier. The universe certainly made up for fucking me over the past year.

I love it to the point that when BU played my employer last night. I was tempted to cheer for both teams. (I love both sets of boys - the school I was supposed to go to and the one that funds my paychecks.) Hockey East is getting more complicated…UConn, my employer, BU. Our neighbours in 114 are going to end up hating me next season. *grin*

And on that note, it’s time to look for a hack to my never ending external drive issue and get the power button on my MBP fixed.

Woo!!!! I am living it up today! Jealous?