Near

Tomorrow's my last day at work - thank God. Today actually went really well, considering how worried I was about it. The Princess was surprisingly kind to me, I made good tips, and I managed a good swing shift on my second to last day. Tomorrow might be another story - I might just walk around yelling "last day, bitches!" People give good tips when you do that, right?

I'm ready to be done. I'm ready to not have my integrity called into question at every turn, I'm ready to not be treated like an imbecile. She told Aaron that she didn't trust me closing last night - she made the poor guy come back in to help me close. The implication here is that she thinks I'm going to steal from her. I did the swing today, so whatever I may not have done last night, I would have had to do this morning - the fact that she legitimately mistrusted me to that extent deeply offends me. I've done nothing but hard work for her, despite being treated the way I've been treated. That's got to count for something.

More than anything, I'm ready to see him again. I've used up most of that eloquence telling him this, but just getting a proper hug for the first time in a month and a half will be a joy. Seeing everyone will be wonderful - I'm looking forward to Karissa's honest hugs, to my Rihanna dance time with Sarah, to my pre-work naps with Chloe, to my coffee (and now drinking!) dates with Brittany, to sharing music and pastries with Rachel, to the days I take Immac lunch to my sister and play with the babies. But more than anything, I'm ready to fall asleep with his arm around me, to share my whispers with him.

There are days when I want to wrap myself up in a song. Like . . . lose myself in it. Shoot up that melody, put it directly into my bloodstream, let it flow into and out of me like some ethereal liquid, mysterious like all music is. Sometimes headphones and speakers just aren't quite good enough. Is there a way to drown in music? I'm sure I've said it before, and maybe I'll have to say it many more times, but I think I want to start playing music again. Have my keyboard and my violin at my new apartment, and try to get back into some sort of regimen. I want to remember the width between half and whole steps again. I want grace notes to come naturally to my fingers again. I want the high back that only playing music can really give you.

There's something especially harsh about forced normalcy. When your words say one thing, and the emotion behind it is pushing you to say something else. It's not always wrong, either - sometimes denying it is really all you can do.