feeling sorry for my love

I've been in the District for four months now (4.5 if you also count the transition weeks), which means that the novelty's had more than enough time to wear off. Thing is, once the novelty bounced out the door, I was left with absolutely nothing.

I don't like DC. I mean, how is it possible that I moved to the only city on the planet with a higher per-capita percentage of douchebags than the one I left? I work entirely too hard, as is the standard here in work-aholic-ville, and anyone who knows me knows that's sooooo not okay with my idea of the good life (I mean, helloooo, why do we all think I don't practice law anymore???). I have only one tier-one friend on this entire coast, and she's too busy being in love to be the support system that I had in LA.

And maybe I'm caught up in a little bit of the nostalgia that was my wonderful life on the music box steps. I mean, I had an amazing group of friends that would drop everything to run to my resuce in my time of need. I had a house full of love, good energy, and friendship. I had a life full of love, good energy, and friendship.

In DC, all I have is a job I hate a little bit more every day, an apartment half the size of the one I had on the music box steps for double the price, a boyfriend in another time zone, a train ride every day where I have to ask the clueless fucktards to give up their seat, and no support system to make up for all the sucks. It's like I'm trapped in a life I don't even want. And for how long, I don't know.

So my poor boyfriend is the one who gets to hear about all of my unappiness. And what can he do, but feel bad for me? Which makes me feel even worse because I'm bringing both of us down. And the most ironic part is that I'm so busy feeling sorry for me when we are talking, that I can't even let the one person in the entire world who makes me happier than I've ever been, get past my self-inflicted woes...

~k