betrayal (?)

know what's weird? when you think you're being betrayed but you're not really sure. men always have a way of simplifying things - "why don't you just ask her what's going on?" to tell you the truth, i'm not exactly sure. it could possibly be due to the fact that women are naturally shifty... i think it's feminine instinct to back-stab; it comes from all sides. but why can't i just ask her? basically, i think i'm afraid of the response... but what i can't understand is what the response could possibly be... i'm at a loss and not really sure where to go or what to think right now... i don't know if i should be felling betrayed or... stupid, i guess... stupid and cowardly because big, tough april can't take criticism or some shit like that... but what is the criticism???

new job... new outlook...

so... new job... started at Blackburn radio a week ago... enjoying it... uhhh... sales again... not much else i can say... except for the fact that i love the environment i'm working in. it's almost like when i was at the paper... i'm not sure exactly what else i can say with regards to the whole "you shouldn't discuss your job on the Internet" thing... i do love it, though, and am actually in a pretty good place right now with all recent events considered. so... i see someone thinks i should be writing more... i wish i could. it doesn't seem to come out as easily as it used to... it feels (for lack of a better term) like i am creatively constipated... that is just an awful word, but it describes my feeling to a tee. words used to pour out of me... my uncle used to say he had "verbal diarrhea"... i had carpal diarrhea... things are just easier not writing... it's almost like i don't have anything to write about anymore... i equate it to something my friend chad said to me while i was under the influence (speculation of the particular influence is allowed) - he said "well, april, i think god only gives you so many words in a lifetime. once you use them up, you die." i was quiet for well over five minutes... i think sometime i wrote all my words... what remains is slush. or maybe not... maybe i just haven't got the call of the "one great idea" that i will feel forced to comply with and allow myself to be enrobed in for weeks. i picture being holed-up, agitated, a drastic loss of appetite (hopefully a drastic weight loss will accompany that), and fits of obscene rage. pretty much like when i had strep throat in february, but not so doped-up. i can't predict when it will come, i can only hope it does... my life is far too boring and mundane to hold the attention of people for much longer... i pretty much already know everybody has taken to humouring me (well, have for years) pretending they care about the small details of my daily escapades... well, actually, some of the things that happen to me are pretty funny sometimes... such as the other day... saturday, i had to go to a remote in the morning at a local country store / produce farm. if they see this, i would like to mention the excellent service, great selections of goods, and great, great, great butter tarts. well, they gave me some tarts to take home with me. i was very excited, as it was the first really good perk i ever got at a job... so, i took them home, left them on the counter, left to do leesha's hair for carn and heather's wedding, came home craving a tart only to find my dog (affectionately called "stretch hot rod, reminiscent of that armstrong guy... did he have a tv show, too? if anyone remembers, let me know!) ate them... all five that were left... i craved them all night, all next morning, and when sunday came, almost drove the 40 minutes to buy more. i didn't, but i'm sure i will. i do drive over an hour to buy candles... i'm also thinking i'm developing (or it's just becoming more pronounced) OCD. i need to have the television at a volume only divisible by five... weird, i know, but i am surethat's why i lost my previous job... when i came home in tears and turned on the tv, the volume was at 22... what, joe, was that all about? hehe! what's even worse is this is just another thing people are humouring me about... in their cars, in their homes on their tvs... my obsession is pouring over into their lives. that's how you know someone truly loves you - they not only humour your psychotic quirks, they allow them and accept them with open arms... and hand you the remote so they don't have to listen to you scream... till another day... april