Out to Pasture

I haven't felt relief like this in several years. I'm out in my own apartment again, albeit with roommates. Nonetheless, you wouldn't believe how it beats living in with the boyfriend's parents... or being homeless.

It's the best damn thing to walk out onto my own patio, curtains drawn, buck naked should I choose to be, and have a drag off of my cigarette, regardless of what its contents are. I can smoke in the nude, cook whatever food I want, stay up and be loud at all hours of the night, and let my puppy have free reign of the house.

I've got my freedom back. It's worth every single penny, every hour at work, and every bill I have to pay. It's one thing to gain freedom for the first time, but it's another thing entirely to gain it again after having it taken away from you.

I wonder if this is what people feel like when they get out of jail or prison. I could definitely understand the urge to do something wonderful and crazy after a stint if that's the case.

Of course, I'm writing this a month late. I moved out over Ostara weekend; I just didn't have internet installed until this past week. I'll never say I'm humble enough to go without internet again. Fuck, I could have been living with candlelight and sponge baths if I'd had the web any sooner... which is funny because there's no light fixtures in the actual living room and we don't have any floor/desk/wall lamps yet so being in the living room after sundown with the kitchen lights off requires candlelight to even see.

We just got a vacuum cleaner. I didn't even realize how much I'd need it until my puppy decided within the first week or two to make it her sole mission in life to seek and destroy all cardboard soda and beer packs... and then strew them over the entire carpet.

Oh, the puppy? She just turned 6 months old. I got her back in November and named her Indica. "Indy" for short, now, or for Indy 500, or even Indiana Bones. She does love to get baked, run around fast as fuck, and bury her bones in the closet. She's a little labrador retriever and pit bull mix, as far as I know. I don't really, because we got her in front of a Home Depot when this Vietnamese couple speaking just above broken English was trying to hand off their puppies. So she's a mutt, but you can see the lab and pit in her so that's what I'm going with.

I thought she was gonna be wayyyy bigger than she is. She's 40 pounds but she's only just above my kneecap in height, so maybe a foot and some change tall. That 40 pounds is all muscle, too. She can pull the couch out of place if I let her. My little Indy brick. <3

I split up with Jon back in 2012 and started dating Erik soon after. In stark contrast to my previous relationship, I don't feel as if I'm talking to a brick wall half the time. Erik's put me through a roller coaster of emotions and I can't even tell you how many times we've walked out the door on each other. I've never been so passionate in my life and I blame this giant motherfucker. He's made me happy in ways I didn't think I'd feel ever again.

We'll have been together for 2 years on May 19th. Holy shit, time has flown.

So, let's see... last time I'd really posted on here was 2010. Ok. So I was working at the Ritz Cabaret as a waitress this time that year. I then crashed my car around the end of May and promptly quit my job. I spend the summer doing odd jobs for cash under the table and then started working at Kohl's, which lasted me little over a year.

Enter 2011. Life went on and I moved out with Jon into a different apartment within the same complex for another year.

After being passed up for promotion three times for different, nit-picky reasons each time, I decided to quit Kohl's. I scored a job at GameStop soon after, and that's where I met Erik.

Enter 2012. I went on a road trip to New Orleans with the handful of people I can say are my trusted friends and I had a blast!

Meanwhile, me and Jon weren't really getting it on anymore. I didn't think he was sexy anymore and later found out he felt the same way. We found ourselves having full blown arguments over the tiniest bullshit and I hardly ever saw him anymore since he was at work all the time. I found myself trying to envision the upcoming years with him, never quite married nor with children, and I couldn't do it. The epiphany that I no longer loved him crept up on me slowly but surely. I felt no need to question or deny it and told Jon exactly that. Again he agreed and we ended up having what was probably the most tame and polite ending to a 7 year connection.

Back to work, now. Erik, at first, had gotten a promotion him and I had been vying for, and I couldn't stand him for it. Soon that changed, though, as troubles and drama between me and Jon had me looking for someone to talk to that simply had no connection to Jon whatsoever: harder than it seems because we'd been together so long all his friends were mine and visa versa. Erik was there to work with and to unload some emotional stress on, and it worked! I found myself warming up to him and realized we have virtually the same frickin thought process. I mean, it's uncanny how similar we are. That similarity led to us hooking up... and later, much to my surprise, falling in love with him.

I'd told myself since I'd gotten a job that I would never dip my pen in the company's ink, so to speak. Next thing I knew I'm legs up in a hotel room getting drilled by my boss. It was weird and fast-paced but I wouldn't change a damn thing about the whole story.

I promptly learned the hard way that I am not sterile and that Jon may have been infertile. The first time I found myself pregnant, I went straight to Planned Parenthood like I've always said I would, got the pill with all its bullshit complicated procedure, and spent the next day cramping the life out of me. Painful as fuck, but not so much I didn't up and go to the pub hours after.

I got a puppy for Erik for his birthday. Pure golden lab. We named her Jubilee and she was the smartest dog I'd ever had the pleasure of existing in my life.

The lease ended and me and Jon packed our things and parted ways. I moved in with Erik at his parents' house.

Due to a change in big-boss management, me and Erik found ourselves working for an incompetent, arrogant, fucktard douchebag who fired Erik over complete bullshit around December.

Enter 2013.

Erik's grandma had passed in the room down from us shortly after New Year's Day. Soon after Jubilee contracted parvovirus and didn't make it. Together, Erik and me buried her in the backyard. I loved her like my child and I'd cried more then than I ever have for anything or anyone else. Even my grandpa.

Once again I was essentially promised a promotion for a job and then found out I was shit out of luck. I walked out of GameStop after telling my boss to suck a bag of dicks and went back to the Ritz to see if I could get my job back. I did, and started waitressing again.

The second time I became pregnant was... slightly traumatic. I found out the hard way birth control may not kick in within the first month, and this time I simply didn't have the funds to get an abortion at the clinic. So I'd ordered the pill online, and took it with confidence that after a few hours of pain I'd be baby-free and ready to proceed with caution from now on. I didn't expect the baby to be a little further along than expected and after 6 hours of basically premature labor, I delivered a still, dead fetus we estimated at roughly 12 weeks, maybe a little further or earlier along. I wouldn't know. Seeing what would have been my son dead in my hands threw me and Erik for a loop. If I find myself pregnant again it will hopefully be on purpose that time. However, even if it should happen by accident, I'm keeping that child come what may.

All that stress within such a short time took its toll on me. I don't think I've been able to be as carefree since then. I waitressed for a while then took up dancing for the better paycheck. That was a summer of crazy amounts of money but crazy amounts of physical and emotional stress. I couldn't deal with the mind games doing that kind of profession will play with you anymore, and by October I got a job working with Erik and my friend Cody at a warehouse. I'm still there right now.

Enter 2014. I turned 25. I've lived for a quarter of a century.

The sheer amount of anxiety and anger I'd built up from living with Erik's parents got to the point where I got my shit together and moved out. I'm living with Erik and Cody now: working at the same place ends up with me seeing the both of them 75% of the time. Fortunately they'd have to be 2 of 3, maybe 4 people I don't mind being around 24/7. I'm looking forward to the rest of the year. I'm starting fresh, and I'm getting my life back the way I want it.

Wish me luck!