something's gotta give

we're in glenwood springs, colorado, at another hostel, on a cold, rainy night. unfortunately, for both of us, it seems that neither of us is getting along with each other. i get the impression he's as sick of me as i am, etc., because he is rude and snappy with me and then very friendly and polite with the other people we encounter.

it sure would be nice to have that third person (field assistant #2) join the crew and break the tension. i don't want to sit and stew and think, 'well he screwed it up because everything was going so well until he broke protocol...' because that is just the plain ol' blame game, and what the hell good would that do for me?? proving our sour times are his fault and not mine? well they're obviously mine, too, because here i am griping about it in my blog again...

we drove through the most southerly rocky mountains today, majestic and covered in snow and shrouded with heavy clouds. if my heart didn't feel so heavy right now, i think i would be falling in love every time we came around a bend. i want to paint, to sculpt, to write music to represent the beauty rolling over these hills in this grandiosity. but instead i sit in a car and listen to the bummer music i didn't choose to listen to and wonder when this storm will break. gloomy.

my dorm mates are completely unfriendly, but everyone in the common room is great. i'm so tired, though, and we've been out of our fieldwork routine for so long, that when we do a point tomorrow, i really hope it has the healing effects we need so badly. it is so difficult for a social creature like myself to sit in a car with someone who is hellbent on being efficient, so much so that joy and cheer cannot sit in the car with us. i have withered away into another person i do not approve of, for lack of decent conversation or friendly companionship.

why did he have to go and put the moves on me?? everything fell apart that day! stupid stupid stupid. and i've prayed so hard to let it go, but it isn't the only crime anymore. he's stubborn and moody and won't make sure i get breakfast or lunch sometimes. we need groceries, he says, after he's returned from the cafe with his bagel and cream cheese. so he can't cover MY breakfast? money sure does go fast when you're not replenishing it.

that makes me afraid of when i come back "home." and where will that be? all my stuff is in phoenix, is that where i'll be? i will most certainly have no money, the way this keeps up. what will i do? it isn't worth being stressed out about now, but it's too big to ignore, i think.

and, just to add a cherry to the top of this gripe session, it hurts my feet to climb the rungs up to my tiny top bunk. so there.

i'm done.