Bitchiness; It’s More of A Calling Then A Hobby.

So I was a total bitch this past weekend—it’s part of the reason that I have not blogged at all this week. I have been busy processing what went done and making peace with myself before committing words and thought to paper.

It started with an odd Friday night—forced to stay at work late due to my boss being insane and my other boss leaving. We had a going away part right before the end of the night; which was fun and great until my boss put on a newly finished episode and made us all stay late to watch it. This is not cool when we were all done and just wanted to go. And it wasn’t to suggest changes but to bask in ‘how good’ it was. Seriously.

So after getting home MUCH later then I wanted I sat around and did nothing. Most everyone was going out to an event that I had no interest in and the boy was with his number girl and so I sat at home and just watched “Doctor Who”. Geek extreme. So I was tired and went to bed kind of cranky though with the boy.

Saturday was hectic or at least it was supposed to be. I had a list of few things I needed to do—like a hair cut and get some taxes from my friend Charity and just odds and ends. I got sidetracked because I want to check my e-mail for some information. This was a HUGE mistake considering I got a HUGE virus.

This might not be a big deal to some but I have my new computer, which I was still in the process of transferring files to. I have been very picky and just taking my time with what I put on there and relabeling things and just getting a clean, well set up machine. So I had not backed it up yet AT ALL and so this virus basically put me at risk to use everything I have. Part of this was my own fault for deleting things off the old computer and thinking that I wouldn’t need old disks.

Things grew worse because the more I did to find out how to fix it the more I realized that I would have to DUMP my entire hard drive and start over. This meant that I ran the risk of losing ALL my writing—I mean everything I had from 12 onward. Three plays, two novels, four scripts, countless short stories and every column I have had. And I FREAKED OUT. (This doesn’t even include all my music and photos that were in danger of being lost.)

Needless to say I was upset. After realizing there was little I could do I hustled out the door to meet up with Charity at the Pier to get the taxes. She had sent me an e-mail saying that she would be there from 10 till 2 and since the computer sidetracked me, I was cutting it really close.

So I busted ass to get to the Pier and there was no sign of her. I waited around for about an hour—steaming mad about it—and was about to leave when I noticed her car in the parking. Where she was sleeping. Turns out that she inverted the times and was working from 2 till ten. Annoyed I took my taxes—stopped to get some cash—and set out to get my haircut.

And I forgot that it was the Saturday afternoon the weekend before Easter. So I couldn’t get a hair cut ANYWHERE since everyone was booked. And I almost burst into tears on Ventura. (Yeah—gay and girly. What the fuck ever.) Needless to say that day pretty much killed me.

I topped said weekend with some shopping with Lola; which actually helped me get calm. At least until that night when I refreaked out about the computer--took out my anger in some unhealthy ways--ending with me arguing with the boy and him leaving at 2 in the morning.

Adding to the fun was the realization that my job was ending and I had no real prospects for work yet and with the computer out of commission I would have a hard time getting things done like resumes and e-mails. And then the money issue hit home when I realized that I still had to book a room in Vegas for Kelly’s birthday. I went full on panic.

After some days alone—as well as a night of full craziness--I have since calmed down. I have managed to figure out a way to save the files if not the computer, apologized to the boy, and just been thinking things through more.

I also realized that being this upset was doing nothing for me. Several different people were huge helps in this, by either letting me take my train to Crazytown, giving good suggestions or giving hugs. I have since come to realize that being a bitch is not much fun and doesn’t do well as a long-term plan.

It's really just not me.