Babysitting wasn't as awful as one would expect. While little Gavin wasn't exactly easy to take care of, he wasn't a mess either. Anyways, after seven thirty he got so tired he put himself to bed. Clara (his mum) got home around ten, at which point I was asleep on the couch among my textbooks and binderfuls of notes. She let me stay the night, rather than wake me up and force me to take the train ride home so late.
So now I'm on the train back, tweeting and taking a bit of "artsy" footage out the window. I'm still tired, somehow, but I am pretty much all the time these days. It's a miserable day, with rain dropping at random times without warning, dripping down the window like melting wax.
There's some creepy man sitting next to me, but I don't pay attention to him. Mostly to out the window. Once again I feel the "character in a movie" feeling, almost shivering at the deja vu. With nothing to do, my mind drifts back to all my worries. Gale, filming, everything.
Back to the film. I set my little notebook full of character info and ideas onto the table in front of my chair, tapping my pen on the table before leaning back. This is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. It's become obvious to me that I'm contributing a lot less to this project than PJ and I hate it. Maybe it's my anxiety keeping me from thinking about all this, or maybe I'm just stuck in a metaphorical rut, but it's bad. As dramatic and horrible it sounds, I feel absolutely useless. I should be helping PJ, not just dragging him back.
Off the train I go, and it dawns on me that Gale is coming to stay tomorrow. We've hardly talked, things just get really awkward really fast. I can't imagine what it'll be like in person. Any normal person might try to text him to reconcile, but I decide to put it off. Maybe things won't be as bad face to face.
Dan and I text for a while, moving from topic to topic like we're hopping on logs in Crossy Road, but eventually he has to go and I'm left pretty much alone with my thoughts the sound of the hot water pipes wheezing in the walls.
To keep myself busy, I start cleaning up the flat. I'd prefer to at least have a clean house when Gale arrives. I don't care what it looks like after that, but first impressions and all that. While cleaning I find five DS games, an iPhone charger I've been trying to find for weeks, and at least three pairs of socks under the bed. And the box that held the bleach I used on my hair.
In a few hours my flat is sparkling clean, and it's right around when normal people go to sleep. Gale is getting in relatively early, around ten AM tomorrow, so I figure that I should probably go to bed "early" tonight, so I can get up to meet him. Not like I'm really getting ready and putting on makeup or anything, but I don't want to be woken up by him ringing the doorbell. That would be awkward.
So I got to bed at ten, like a normal person who cares about their health and wellbeing. I don't dream, which is pretty normal for me. Ever since my anxiety got bad dreams have just disappeared.
And then my alarm rings, signaling that it's nine AM and time to get up. Far to early for someone like me, but you have to do what you have to do. I rarely eat breakfast, but today seems like a "normal person" kind of day. I pour myself some Lucky Charms (no milk, since I keep forgetting to buy some), and a cup of orange juice. A healthy breakfast, no doubt.
Gale sends a text saying he's getting on an Uber and really jetlagged. I don't doubt it. In the meantime, I text Dan some.
So my friend Gale is coming to stay for the weekend. Things are going to get very awkward, I'll text you if I need someone to make things less ew
Dan takes what feels like less than a second to text back, The one u dated? Maybe mentioning Gale to my "boyfriend" (it feels strange to call him that) is a bad idea. But he might as well know.
