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The problem with me is that I won't stay angry. Oh, I'll get angry, sure. That's easy. But it has a shelf-life, and someone has to really deal me some serious hurting for it to stick. And while I was angry enough to be kind of a prick, I was nowhere near angry enough to really get a big mad on for that girl, and consequently I'm not mad at her. I'm angry at things being the way they are, but I can't maintain any anger at Jen. I just can't. She didn't really take the extra steps necessary for me to get to that point and I can't maintain any hostile feelings like I've been feeling this week. In fact, I think now that maybe I was *too* angry yesterday, and maybe I enjoyed writing that post too much. I don't know if that makes me a schmuck or not, but there you go. I don't hate Jen, I don't dislike the girl, and I'm not even mad at her.

Today, near the end of the shift, I developed a different sort of anger. She and I didn't really exist in the same world today, which is probably due to yesterday's official involvement, which I never asked for, which I would just as soon as not happened. I think Jen and I would have eventually worked out our own bullshit, and we were starting to do that, but yesterday probably did make it worse. I couldn't tell today if she was pissed off at me or what. Except ...

Twice. Two times near the end of the day we made eye contact, and I could tell this was really bothering her. We didn't say anything, but if there's one thing I can do it's read somebody's eyeballs. Before I knew it we were all out at the company meeting and there was no way for me to do anything, and then everybody left, and I lost her in the crowd and didn't get a chance to say anything. But from the point where the second of the two looks occurred I started to stew over everything that's happened the past few weeks and that other kind of anger started to boil. It's the same kind of anger that led to me taking a swing at the paper towel dispenser in the Diner bathroom after Becky toyed with my emotions one time too many. I put a hole in it and everything (it was plastic), and broke my knuckles open. I was so keyed up that I didn't even know they were bleeding until Dan pointed it out. It was that kind of anger.

I hate this. I don't care about all the other bullshit. I don't care who said what to who about what for whatever reason. I miss her. I miss talking to her. I miss hanging out with her. I don't care if she and I ever become a couple or not. She's my friend, god dammit. That's what I fucking care about. She's my friend, I like her, and fuck everything else.

So I wrote off a very powerful e-mail about that and sent it about half an hour ago. I'd rather she read that letter first before I try anything else, but I want to call her, too. I'll do that later.

Right now I need to go out for a drive.