I'm really hating this endless title of girlfriend. I made promises to myself that I have ignored. I love Jake to pieces and would love to be with him forever... but that's if he's ready and even wants to. To me the biggest way to prove it would be a ring. After a while words get old. It's starting to feel like empty promises and I'm not happy about it. Last year he said we'd be engaged within a year. I made suggestions about how to save, sent him rings that I wanted and waited. And waited. And... yeah, you get the idea. So now I have people calling him my husband and it burns. I don't want to be the forever girlfriend. I don't want to count on promises after the first were broken. Now that he announced he's only saved a few hundred towards the ring and it will be sometime in 2009 I am feeling like it's never going to happen. He's had over a year to start saving and more time considering he said he wanted to when he moved in. To me it would make sense to save for something you wanted. It would also make sense to only promise what you can do. Now I'm feeling horrible and even worse... feeling like a nag for asking him about it. I shouldn't have to be the one to give him pointers on this. There are plenty of guys who can tell him how to save and where to go for rings. Besides the guys who say rings are bullshit, that is. Those guys can kiss my ass. :p

...named Jake. I woke up and lumbered into the bathroom, briefly glancing about. I noticed a glob of something by the shower and figured it was some sort of hairball. Lovely... I grabbed some toilet paper and reached down only to see that it wasn't kitty throw up, but a glob of some sort of crystalized peanut butter. Almost like a honeycomb. I cleaned it up and started picking little bits up off the throw rug, then noticed it was also on the towel. WTF!?! Afterwards I went into the kitchen. It was like a Mr. Peanut crime scene. Peanut butter on the counter, the sink, the OTHER counter. What did he do... use his hand to scoop it out? Nope. In the sink were TWO knives, each with big goops of peanut butter on them. A HUGE pet peeve of mine. Since the surgery I haven't tried peanut butter yet... and have always had a thing about not cleaning it off of your knife when done. Jake, on the other hand, leaves half a fucking jar on the knife and then drops it into the sink to sit... and harden... and get EVERYWHERE. He woke up just in time to hear me bitch (as if I wouldn't save it) about his peanut butter orgy. At least he cleaned the knives this time. :p

Oh yes, the PMS stick has hit me especially hard this week. It started with a bitch fest between my boss and I that deteriorated into us saying "FINE" back and forth. I think I won that one, but not before my friend left the office practically stapling her finger to stop from laughing. Not one of my finest hours... Then I came home planning on eating a healthy salad only to find some funky ass brand salad dressing that tasted like oil slick. After that I dialed Jake's cellphone and left a bitch mail while looking for some Chili to cook and went balistic when I couldn't find any. After throwing myself into my chair and bitching about him in the IRC channel I went back to see if there was anything to cook. I stood on a chair and found a lone can of Chili shoved in the back... in a plastic bag. Then there was the cheese. Use before July 16th... Oh yes, I was NOT happy. Luckily for my boss (and myself) she isn't going to be in the office for the rest of the week. JakeD is SOL...