Odd Package Deal

Woke up in the middle of the night, but not wanting to continue this sleep cycle, I took 3 Seroquels and managed to sleep for a few more hours. Tim messaged me, and he brought Pupple over and looked at my vacuum. Apparently some dirt had gotten stuck in the hose or something, but he cleaned it out and it worked beautifully again. YAY! I gave him $150 credit on the rent agreement for fixing it. That's more than a new one would cost, tbh, but 1) not having to dispose of the vacuum is honestly worth quite a bit, and 2) he's iffy on the rent, so having him "work off" part of it is mutually beneficial. If Tami didn't have a broken leg, I'd hire her to clean my place every so often. I was going to maybe hire Kenneth, but I think he's moving soon. And doesn't like me. And Tim & Tami need the money more. We also cleaned the microwave, I took out the trash, and did the dishes. He hugged me, and we might've fucked if...I don't know. I feel really, really shitty about fucking him while I was high in 2019, but I also worry that fucking him now (sober - at least from G) would complicate things. The topic of him saving my life came up, and he repeated FHA's statement that the Scoreboard only exists in my head.

If there was any doubt I got my money's worth, we had a sort of mini-therapy session. I talked about my frustration with phone calls. I keep thinking people are calling for emergencies, because why else call someone who *VASTLY*, *STRONGLY*, *EXTREMELY*, to put it mildly, prefers text-based communication? And then it turns out they just want me to alleviate their boredom, and...I fucking hate expectations. I'm just going to require them to text/email/messenger-pigeon/whatthefuckever with the subject matter prior to answering. I don't care if that's Mariah, they know I don't like it and they keep doing it. We talked about my extreme competitive streak, but also my nearly sad/mas-ochistic flagellation if I lose. Even though my dad was proud of me no matter what, because at least I wasn't Jared, his standard for everything was Effortlessly Flawless. And somewhat awkwardly, my dad was straight up Mommy, Dearest in his own need to win. For all that he was delighted I got into GATE classes because my 2nd Grade teacher thought I was mentally retarded and demanded I be tested, he also said I scored in the top 2% nationally....but that his scores "blew mine out of the water." Weird flex, but okay. Even in 2nd Grade, I thought it would be difficult to do *that* much better - there was only one percent left! My dad loved me, he wanted me to be successful (see above re: standards). Just not quite as successful as he.

We talked some about Julian, and this Immovable Object meets Unstoppable Force of his Self Destruction and my Need to Help is awkward, to say the least. Julian doesn't want help, he wants to commiserate. And any substantive discussions I have with him should be done sober. He says Julian is definitely an alcoholic, and I may have been/be as well (pre-GHB, obv), but I was far more functional. It at least got me to start thinking of all of life as a highway, though I obviously don't want to ride it. Functional people go the speed limit or faster. Addiction puts a hole in your tire, if you're lucky. Maybe it bursts, maybe it just goes flat, maybe it wasn't a hole in the tire, but instead a hole in the engine. I don't have the automotive knowledge to make this metaphor work, but you get the idea. I started on the road ahead of Julian, my car/life was more functional, and my alcoholism was Grey. I think I've mentioned this before, because I never had a Rock Bottom with booze. I suppose I might not have recognized it even if I did, given that it took the force of the law and literally everyone around me to get me into rehab for GHB, but since booze never cost me an apartment (or two) nor almost killed me...

Helpfully, we talked some about my religion, and how it straddles that line between a philosophy and a religion, much like Daoism and Buddhism, . I'm really quite happy with that, being an atheist Jew and all. Side note: this is not surprising at all, but I am ecstatic that I'm Jewish at a level I don't even recognize. 1) I've never had any sort of ethnic identity, even for a Mayosapien. Papa just said we were Sicilian or Portuguese, depending on the day you caught him, 2) I obviously don't give any weight to blood relations, and 3) it just never seemed important. But it *feels* right. Anyway, religion often involves some sort of devotion or power dynamic. I'm obviously devoted to the central message of my religion; I made a religion for it! But that might not be the devotion he's talking about. And since Tim is a religious person, even the idea of a new religion is off-putting. He imagines most people will feel the same way, but people are dropping traditional religion like it's hot.

I drank after he left, and while the total was too much, I didn't slam on the gas pedal like usual. I decided it was *very* important for me to find a moment in The Last Unicorn to match the line from GAI "Come with me Mary, come. You know you once were Queen," since it feels like a line about Amalthea. I found lots of works featuring her theme, but no moments from the film, and I was hunting for perfection. I also got tossed in FB Jail, I think, for calling some basket of deplorable qualities trash. It's fine to take a break every now and again, and I've got lots of goals that FB distracts from.