Here’s Your Sign

So it’s just about ten at night on a Tuesday. Josh is sleeping after a hard days work in the sun, and I’m feeling rather quiet. I was feeling melancholy, but I’m getting better at not letting my brain go down the wrong roads. Last night wasn’t so great, and I ended up losing my temper and breaking a glass. Actually, I did manage to control my “I really want to flip over a table” frustrated freakout long enough to pick a plastic cup instead of something that would shatter into a million inconvenient pieces, but it turns out I managed to crack it in half anyways. I know, I know, I’m working on it. Tonight I’m just quiet, and a little more patient.

What’s pissing me off so much? MSN. That’s it. Or maybe it’s not even messenger, maybe it’s my internet connection. Maybe it’s my provider, or maybe this fancy ass new computer still isn’t up to snuff enough to get a decent video going. I realize that I might sound like a modern spoiled “but I can’t live without my blackberry!” snot. I don’t own a blackberry. The point is this: I didn’t even have internet at home prior to about six months ago. I had internet sitting in front of me all day at work, what do you mean pay for it? The only reason I plugged in my domicile was because I missed Josh in the evenings, and staying so late at work was getting ridiculous. So it’s getting really frustrating that the one damn thing I need a computer and internet connection for simply refuses to work properly. Holy fuck cosmos, you’ve already planted the love of my life 800 miles away, and now I’m not even allowed to see him? GRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!

Yes, I realize my predecessors waited weeks and months for overseas letters, but I’m going to be in that boat soon enough when Josh goes to jail (except it’s a lake, and I presume even outbound prison mail doesn’t take months to be delivered). And my predecessors didn’t fork over money for a device advertising its ability to enhance communication. It’s one thing if I can’t see my boyfriend because he’s behind bars. It’s one thing if we can’t chat because he’s just so tired and I’d rather him have a nap and feel better. It’s another thing all together when our webcams don’t work or we randomly go offline. Yes, I know he’s still on the other side of that screen, and even if it was working he’s sleeping. That’s not the point.

Maybe it’s my hyper driven corporate side, but if I’m paying for a computer, an internet connection, or a waffle iron for all I care, it should just fucking work. I gave you money and time, why do I have to deal with your incompetence?

Why can’t shit just fucking work? Ever?!? 

My dad’s reminder that the computer is in fact NOT a physical entity out to get me was surprisingly helpful. Because I honestly forget that sometimes; that plastic cup had to nerve to be in the way of my frustrated flinging hands. And Josh is the best thing in the world for my crazies. He’s like concentrated awesome and happy in a goatee, and he’s patient with me even when I’m a snarky bitch for no reason other than I’m mad at not being able to see him (which I *realize* makes no sense, welcome to being a chick). So overall I’m feeling better.

The internet is being shitty again tonight. But I’m nowhere near as pissed because I know eventually we’ll figure out a way to get it working, and eventually we won’t need it anyways. And Josh isn’t on the other side of the computer with his fingers crossed hoping for all the ones and zeroes to line up, he’s sleeping like he should be.

That and a few other things. Every now and then, no matter how frustrated or pissy I get, something lines up just right and I’m reminded that I’m still on the right path and all I need to do is be patient. Like the other night.  I was going to tell Josh about this, but I keep forgetting because we always get caught up talking about something else awesome and important. So instead I’ll let him stumble upon this story on his own and brighten his day a bit. He was listening to Brooks and Dunn last Friday night, a song all about hard working blue collar men like himself. We were in a great mood, even though he was packing up to go camping for the weekend and we wouldn’t be able to talk for a day or so. That’s a long time for us. We usually leave our webcams on overnight so we can chat first thing in the morning before he leaves for work at quarter to six, so having a blank computer screen as the late shows came on was a little disheartening. I turned on The Hour, my hip and urban “Jon-Stewart-Meets-60-Minutes” type interview show, and favourite bedtime background noise. That night’s guests? Brooks and Dunn.

In appropriate redneck fashion, I will quote Jeff Foxworthy: Heeeeeeeere’s your sign.

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