Game on!
Ramadan is a pain in my ass. Only three and a half weeks to go... it's hard not to eat everything in the whole world after you've broken your fast. Like once I can eat again all I can think about is all the different shit in the house I'm allowed to eat. Since 6:37pm (local sunset time) I've had a bowl of stew (last night I made vegetable stew, just bullshitting my way through it. It was a little more watery than I had intended, but pretty tasty with a little added salt and pepper), two pieces of swiss olive loaf with butter, two cookies, three homemade vegetable egg rolls, and a cup of coffee. Christ. This is why I gained so much weight in Senengal - don't eat all day, eat a ton, then go to sleep. Not really that great of an idea.
I don't think I'm going to pay attention to the water part of the rules. It just doesn't seem like that great of an idea to deprive your body of water if you don't have to. It's such a bitch to do this in the USA. At least in Senegal although it was hot as fuck and sunset was later in the day (Ramadan is going to suck when it moves into summertime, which it gradually is), everyone else was fasting. This gives you strength to deal with all the shit, and life in general slows down over the course of the month. People understand that you might not be all that energized and a lot of people take naps in the afternoon.
Here you just suffer alone and people expect you to keep up with the normal pace of life.
Well, last Saturday I went back to yea ol strip club finally. All day we did practically nothing at all, then in the last hour I made some money. After some nice tips to the manager to keep him wanting me back despite not having a regular schedule, I came home with about $130. Not bad for 5 hours of doing very little and about 1 hour of work. It paid for my groceries this week, which allowed me to buy the veggies for the soup; and fruit, yogurt, and soft tofu for morning smoothies.
Also, now I am sore all over. Damn, but my body is not used to real exercise. It takes so little time for your body to get out of shape!
I was worried I wouldn't be able to do the things I used to or that I'd be weirded out but it really is just like riding a bike. Grab that pole and swing on up...talk that bullshit and get 'em spending money.
..
Well, I'm tired and typing here is getting on my nerves because Ponge is incapable of chewing gum without making random sucking noises on his teeth for no apparent reason. He doesn't really give a fuck that this bothers me; if I mention it he just says that I do things that bother him. Whatever I guess, but it makes my skin crawl so I'm going to go outside for a cigarette then I'm going to clean myself and go to bed.
I'm not cleaning the fucking kitchen since he's totally sucked at cleaning lately. I'll just leave all the shit and see how long it sits there.
Oh, did I mention we had a screaming fight on Sunday? I was cleaning the kitchen and noted he had left an empty bread bag on the counter rather than throwing it away in a garbage two feet away. So I mentioned this because I have mentioned it before and I wanted to state that it bothered me.
He wasn't interested, he wanted to know why I couldn't just throw it away and not say anything. I wanted to know why he couldn't just throw it away and then I wouldn't have had to say anything. Anyway we went back and forth from there and ended up with some heartfelt fuck you's (I said fuck you first). I proceeded to go into my room and cry for awhile. Then I called Carrie up and talked to her for like two hours.
I felt better afterwards, but I still feel really stressed about the whole "us" thing. I don't want to fight with Ponge, and I have no idea what I'm doing. This whole long term relationship thing is new to me. Carrie suggested I write him a letter about all the things I am bothered by. That way I can re-read it and revise it and make sure it really states what I am trying to put across in the tone I mean it to carry. This is probably a good idea but I can't really concentrate to type a letter when he is watching TV six feet away from me & I feel too tired to write a letter by hand.
Anyway. Later we picked up a free dresser from some lady. Let's see just how long it takes Ponge to pick up all his fucking clothes off the floor and put them into the dresser rather than it sitting there all empty for no reason. Please put your crap into the dresser without me saying anything! I don't want to be mom, but I want the floor space back so I can paint when I feel like it. Right now your clothes are all up in my space. Please just do this on your own...