Really?
I love my grandfather. Really, I do. I just question his perception sometimes. Like now, when he apparently thinks that I'm sliding back into depression because it's 2pm and I'm in pjs. On my day off from work, when I've spent the past two weeks nonstop looking for places to live and going to work more hours a week than I've done in a long time. So yes, Grandpa. I'm staying in my pjs as long as I can because it means I'm tryin to relax. No, I'm not going jogging right now because a) my jogging clothes are all down at the cabin (3 hours south of here) because when packing, that's where we thought we were going to live; b) it's 45º F outside. Way too cold to go jogging, muchless when you don't have the proper clothes to go jogging in. Jeans are not acceptable for this activity, I promise; and finally c) I'm getting my work out at work. Despite it being dead sometimes, I don't get the option to sit down. I don't get the chance to stop doing *something* or stop moving. So until my hours slow down, I'm not going jogging because I'm not going to overwork myself just so you can think I'm not sliding back into bad habits, but thank you for asking before making that assumption.
Oh and where was this thought process three weeks ago when I broke up with Josh and was going to help a friend move a couch for another friend? You told me, and I quote, "You just broke up with Josh today, you do not need to go traipsing around with another guy. You're going to hurt everyone doing that and it's not fair to them or to you."
.....
Really?
.....
First, the friend I went with to help move the couch, let's call him Nate. Nate has a girlfriend. One he's risking his job for (they work at the same store, he as an assistant manager, her as a normal employee which is strictly forbidden and they've hidden it well so far) so I highly doubt I'm going to break his heart doing this. Second, I'm not going traipsing around. I'm going with Nate to help another friend, let's call her Paige, move a couch I gave her into her apartment. Because it's heavy as all fuck and I figured that hey, I gave it to her, I may as well help and get someone else to help too get it into her apartment. Cause that's what you taught me. But apparently the rules change when I've broken up with my s/o. Thanks for giving me the notice though.