2002-04-17 - 9:55 a.m.
Know a good seamstress? I'm unravelling today ...

This has got to be PMS week, because I feel like I'm going to pieces again. I hate that. I really, really hate that. It makes me feel even more out of control than usual.

Last night my brother was doing his usual fidgeting, whistling, tapping routine at his desk while he played EQ, and I was trying to concentrate on something I was reading online. It's usually an unconscious thing, but he knows it gets on my nerves. Every time I glanced over at him, annoyed, he would notice, get amused, and deliberately make more noise. Nothing new. Last night, however, it was too much, so I reached for the headphones again to blast some music and block out the world.

He frowned at me and told me I was being rude. "Why?" I asked. "You can't stop making noise, and I can't concentrate when you're doing that, and I really want to read this. So I put on headphones. Now everybody's happy."

"No, I'm not," he said. "If you're going to listen to music, then I want to hear it too! You never play it so I can hear it!"

"But that's not the point," I said. "It sounds better in the headphones." Not to mention that the whole point of the exercise isn't really the music, but the fact that it blocks him out, which wouldn't happen if I was playing it through the speakers!

"You're just being mean to me," was the gist of what he said next.

Well, that was the proverbial straw. I shut down my computer, threw some things around looking for my notepad, favorite pen, and highlighters, and stormed off to my room. First, however, I told him rather bitterly that he was being hateful, that things weren't always about him, and that the fact he could never be serious and never respected me made it really hard to live with him sometimes.

Silence.

I came out later to do a load of laundry because the dress I wanted to wear the next day (today) had been in the dirty pile for about a week and a half. He looked over at me, then casually asked if all the boxes piled by the front door (where they'd been for three weeks) were empties.

"That was the general idea," I said, rather sharply.

"Oh, okay," he said. "I think I'll, uh, break them down Thursday morning and take them to the dumpster."

As if that would make up for the fact that the only time he does chores other than cooking is when I'm not around -- Thursday and Friday when he doesn't work -- and even then, almost nothing gets done. But I guess coming from my brother, that was his back-assward way of apologizing.

*deep breath* I will not come apart at the seams today. I won't. It never helps.

Something funny, to break up the dreariness: I went to get coffee about twenty-five minutes ago, and found the pots both empty. One of the HR ladies was in there, and started the machine going again; she said to come back in about five minutes and it would be ready. So, I set my cup down and wandered back to my desk. Fifteen minutes later she appeared with my cup filled and said "I figured you must be so weak from lack of coffee, I'd bring it to you." D'oh! I'd forgotten all about it. *grin*

And something happy: Saturday I'm getting a haircut, hanging out with my mom (so she can help me fill out my health coverage forms), and then visiting with Jocasta. Maybe we'll go catch The Scorpion King in theater. Mmm. Although The Rock has nothing on the guy who played Imhotep in the last two "Mummy" movies!

Then, a week later, Hildegaard will be driving in from Eastern Oregon to stay for a few days. Hurrah! I'll have to spend a lot of hours cleaning like a madwoman before she gets here, but oh well. It's been months since I saw her last, and she's my best friend.

So, the end of April's looking up. I just have to get there ...