Trouble in Paradise?

All day long I waited by the phone yesterday… waiting from the call from him. He told me he would call… he told me he was on his way. Yet I heard nothing. I began wondering if I had made the right choice with him. Had I once again set myself up for disappointment? I caved and finally called him… he didn’t answer, although I could tell he was on the other line. I did something I never do… I left a message. I tried to sound carefree and lighthearted, when really I have been so stressed about him lately. I waited for him to return my call… never let them know you care by calling them twice without a return call. I got off of work and just couldn’t wait any longer I called him again… he answered. Thank god.

One would think though that through emailing and talking all of the time we might have good communication. But no, we don’t understand one another at all… this past week, all of this time wasted… I thought he understood… God, I thought I understood. All of this stress for nothing… dang it… all to find out last night, the movers aren’t coming today, they are coming on Sunday.

So I have a couple more days to procrastinate… I mean “organize” before the movers arrive. My room is in utter chaos. My door doesn’t open all of the way, and once I get through the door it doesn’t easily close. The room that I once thought was fairly spacious has now begun collapsing in on me. Last night I was only able to sleep on about half of my queen size bed, as books and various other objects have begun talking over the other side.

I tossed and turned attempting to get to sleep, having a hard time… not due to the space in which I was confined to… but LJ, my roomie, had a “guest” over last night. That makes a different “guest” every night this week. You might think I am jealous, but if you saw these gentleman callers that have been coming over… you would just feel for me.

Last night was my favorite. I seriously tried to think of a way to record their conversation while I lied in bed stifling laughs. LJ’s guest last night plays the guitar, having taken lessons for the past two years. As I normally love guys who play guitars, I was ready to be lulled to sleep by the Jack Johnson serenading occurring in the next room… then he started playing… and singing. It was horrible.

He was out of tune the entire time (what person that plays guitar can’t hold a simple tune?!?!) while his fingers slipped striking the wrong chords and notes. It was horrible. I got up and decided to make some tea, as I had to see this debacle first hand. He of course stopped as I passed through the living room, only to pick it back up upon my return to my bedroom.

Ahhh Stairway to Heaven. I can’t help but to think of Wayne’s World anytime I hear that song. Now LJ digs this guy, and has for quite some time, so she is oohing and ahhing over everything he is doing. Talking about how much this song has changed in the twenty years since it came out. (Try 35 years lady.)

This guy then begins to boast about how much talent he has and how well he plays for someone who has only played the guitar for two years. He even said that he plays as well as many people who have taken the guitar for most of their lives. I am beginning to wonder if this guy has ever even heard anyone else play the guitar as his fingers move clumsily over the strings… he said he had a natural talent for it, and had he picked up a guitar in his younger years (he and my roomie are in the later 40s) he can’t imagine what he would have been able to do with the talent.

I puked in my mouth and fell asleep… praying that I wouldn’t wake under an avalanche of boxes nor to the sounds of such a “god given talent”.