Do I get a gold star?

I had big plans yesterday. He was 12-9, I was 12-9, I can go places with that. Didn't exactly work out though. He was flat out broke and couldn't go anywhere with me, which turned out to be a good thing because when one particular girl is working 9-6, I end up going to lunch an hour late. Which I don't mind except when he's there, ugh. I did feel really horrible when he said he couldn't go until today, because we got paid, and spent at least an hour telling myself "Stupid, stupid, stupid you!" afterwards. Money sucks, especially when there's a lack of it. It wasn't all bad though. When we first clocked in, we walked by the schedule board and he happily mentioned that he has Thanksgiving day off, woohoo! . . . and then proceeded to go on "Not like I have plans or anything that day. Dad's going to my sister's, my kids'll be with their Mom, my daughter's mad at me. So yeah, might just sit at home with macaroni and cheese out of a box."

WTF no, just . . . no. I told him he could come over to our place and he kind of perked up and said he just might. I was gonna give him my number but we were up front by that point and he was forced to leave me for the wonders of the fresh produce section. I'll follow up with him on it as the days go by, he's sure to mention it again. If not I'll take initiative and ask him the closer it gets to the 25th to see if he'll need a ride over or anything. But, no, there is no way I'm letting anyone sit at home alone on Thanksgiving with box dinners, that's just sad. Granted, later, I realized that one of my brothers will be there, and my Dad will probably be there, and my mom is socially awkward and Dad's an ex-Baptist preacher and . . . well, if Pippy comes to dinner and I find him never speaking to me again, I'll more than understand, haha! I doubt if they'd bother him much though, sounds like he's got some real prizes in his family, too. In fact, I love hearing stories about his family, they make mine seem more normal. I don't want to get my hopes up too much that he'll come, but at the same time . . . hells yes I really want him to. Thanksgiving with us is always incredibly laid back and downright lazy. We don't dress up, t-shirt and jeans, tatty clothes, etc are fine, we consume probably a week's worth of calories in several hours and spend the rest of the day sitting around in front of a movie or walking around outside. Right up his alley, really.

And now I'll kind of sidetrack here to gush about how much I love my job, yet again. As I mentioned earlier, my day was just not going as planned. I was pissed off at myself for asking Pip to lunch only to remind him how poor he is, and then I was getting really pissed off because the other cashier was taking forever to do orders, returns, and other random crap, causing my lunch to be an hour late, meaning I couldn't even go sit with him outside. I have to remind myself though: I am at work. I am there to work, not to go socialize with people. That's just a bonus. This girl has been genuinely pretty nice to me, teaching me stuff and being helpful (a little too helpful sometimes!), and doesn't bring her own personal drama into the Pharmacy. And also I'd be thrilled at the idea of a late lunch if I didn't have Pippy to worry about. The later you go to lunch, the less time you have before you get to go home, you see. Getting the bigger chunk of your day out of the way first is always best. I finally clocked out at ten to five, went through the checkout with a single packet of pretzel M&Ms (healthy, no?) and walked outside to find him sitting on the edge of the building, talking on the phone.

"Where have you been?"

It was time for him to go back to work, which I'd figured on. Bother. So I started walking out to my truck with my water and my M&Ms, feeling quite miserable and in need of a good long sulk. when I heard someone call my name from the smoker's lounge. It was D, the awesome tech who was grilling me with questions last week and asking me if Pip was my boyfriend. I went and hung with her for a little while, and it made me forget to feel sorry for myself. When she had to leave, I called my sister for a bit and even ran into someone from college last year that I haven't seen since last December. By the time I came back from my lunch, things at the Pharm had quieted down a lot, which no one was about to complain over. It's when I get a chance to catch up on little mundane tasks and get to know my coworkers a little better. D was teaching me how to organize script logs and simultaneously grilling me some more. Have I ever been engaged? No. Is there . . . anyone in the vicinity that you're interested in? Er, yes.

" . . . so".

You know what? I trust her enough, and she said she wouldn't tell anyone. After squeeing about how cute she thinks he and I would be, she began suggesting all sorts of ways to get him out, said that she and some other Walmartians were going to see HP on the 20th and I should ask him to come with us. People probably heard us talking, I dunno if the other tech and Raj, the pharmacist care, but at this point, if it gets out, I really don't care much. If he hasn't figured it out by now anyways, he must be incredibly slow and/or oblivious. But it felt nice to be able to talk about it with someone who knows both of us.

Facebook is a funny thing. For the most part it's really great, but every now and then Pip will post something and it irritates the ever living crap out of me. Most recently today it was something about how he's off tomorrow so he can go crazy tonight with some LTD and Diet Coke. (can someone please tell me what "LTD" is? He's always going on about it). I've come to the conclusion he's not an irresponsible drinker. He stays at home and doesn't overdo things to the point that he's drunk at work or misses days. But his 'woohoo time off, alcohol yay!' type posts really friggin' piss me off. Why? Because there's something deeply ingrained in the way I was raised about being anti-alcohol? Not that I really agree with lots of things I was raised to anymore. Because I'm angry that I can't be there getting pissed with him? That I can't really get pissed or even have a little at all? I think this is it. It's one of the things that makes me feel like I've still got my training wheels on while the rest of the world is out riding mountain bikes. I really need to get my own place, I really do. I do like living here for free, but I've been told in no uncertain terms that if I bring alcohol into the house I'll be out on my ass. Even if I didn't bring it home but drank it elsewhere, I'd probably still be out on my ass. And it ticks me off that my family can still be so narrow-minded and ultra-conservative. Drinking is bad. Smoking is bad. And with my Mom . . . divorce is bad. The fact that Pippy has kids isn't too much of an issue for her. His flipping criminal record isn't even much of one. It's the fact he's a divorcé. She believes it's unbiblical and sinful to remarry after a divorce, since 'no matter what the law says, you're still married to that person forever.' In her mind, divorceés are second rate goods. Dirty and undesirable, if you will. So while yes, I realize that Divorced man = man with lots and lots of baggage, I know the issue with her is 'divorced=dirty/wrong'. So anywho, I'll end my rant for now. But I do think I'm gonna start putting away a few dollars a month towards a 'buy my own place' fund. I need to pay off my truck before I can do anything much, but boy after that . . . woohoo, lol.

Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day. He'll be at home likely sleeping off a hangover so I won't be distracted. As lovely as these little distractions are, it gets annoying after a while. But still . . . do I get a gold star for at least inviting him to dinner, however disastrous or uneventful it may turn out?