.03.

Yesturday, I got to spend a day in the life of my boyfriend.

I ended up accompanying him on one of his single-shift days at the Bar and Grill up in Massachusettes, which was quite the learning experience.

It started with a 3 mile walk through the suburbs, passing a pig farm, lots of houses, and even more trees and strip malls. This was around 10am, I believe. After we arrived with me exhausted and him still smiling and smoking cigarettes (I believe he went through at least 3 or 4 along the way while I refused any lest I lose my momentum plus I've been developing a cough and sore throat), we parted ways at the Deli; him to work and me to eat breakfast. I ate a couple of those candy cane sticks that were watermelon flavored that I haven't had since I was at least 14 or so, chocolate pudding and a vitamin water while reading the stack of newspapers on the empty table.

I love to read the newspaper simply for the local interest stories, and general stories that have absolutely no relevance to the impending doom this world is coming to. Everyone is depressed about Bush passing laws to stifle America while at the same time pushing for war with every other country, but me? I'm reading about the minister who rebuilt a boarding school in war-torn Liberia. And I can finish reading the paper with a smile on my face because someone, somewhere, did something good.

I'm a bloody ostrich sometimes, but we each have our own ways of getting through the days.

Afterwards, I wandered in circles around the stretch of land, up stairs and down ditches in this playground of retail shopping trying to find a pair of pants. I'd borrowed some old man pants off the boy because I thought it would be cold, as it had the previous two days and what brought about my sickness, and now it was almost 80 degrees and I was sweltering.

But pastel hippie skirts aren't really me.

So instead I finally hid in the bookstore, going over every book painstakingly, only to annoy the manager and buy a pencil and pen to draw with. Luckily, the boy called to say he was out of work early.

Lunch, meeting his co-workers, followed by a walk through the forest and then the 3 mile walk back...

After we returned, he even made us dinner, followed by more wonderful sex, followed by him crashing the fuck out at nine PM.

The whole day tired me out, and it wasn't even one of his full days and I wasn't even working during the time that he was. I was sitting down drinking water and reading the paper the whole period. This whole thing really got me thinking:

I couldn't do what he's doing.
I don't even know if I'd force myself to do what he's doing for the person I love.
Compared to the amazing feat that is getting through his day and getting up again for more the next, anything I bitch about for not having time, not having energy, not wanting to just get off my ass and do it is just sheer laziness.

It really motivates me to want to do more things with my time, utilize it to the fullest and make sure I stay on schedule. There's so much I need to do and I'm just not getting it done. All my personal stuff is a deadline being pushed back a month.

So I'm trying to see what I can cut out from my scheduled fun, try to wake up early and get to sleep on time, learn some discipline. And of course, start making the money so I can begin to pull my fair share in this plan.

I'm back in NY now, so I guess that's phase 1...