Breathe in, breathe out

Count to ten. Ignore the pounding in my head from lack of sleep. In fact, ignore everything except the slowly rising panic within me. But don't freak out. For the love of God don't freak out. Okay maybe freak out a little, then have a beer. No beer. Okay freak out.

Well, I'm not quite there yet, but I can imagine that it will happen soon. I've had a blissful (read: better than the worst case scenario) afternoon. Spent some of it at Tams with Roomie and also saw Blonde Boy twice... twice?! I know, I know what you are thinking, and I was thinking it too. His telephone number still perches upon my cork board, scrawled drunkenly on a piece of the yellow pages. I resisted the urge to call it. Am still resisting. The Roomie/Apartment Boy conflict is scheduled to come to a head sometime this evening. I am awaiting a phone call.

The worst thing about tonight is that I am being forced to go to a restaurant where my only dining option is slab of cow. Now, I know I am not militant about my vegetarianism. In fact, I'm pretty damn laid back about it. Actually the other night I ate something that might have once been part of a cow in my poutine. But gravy does not have nearly the same effect on me as a large piece of what is clearly animal muscle. I have been told I don't have to eat it, that one of the boys/men we are going with will eat it. That is not my problem. I have a problem supporting the restaurant, I have a problem with its juices running over the rest of my food, I have a problem with a meal that has no identifiable protein and I have a big problem with the fact that pieces of meat make me want to vomit. There is something that has become so terribly unappetizing that I fear I will not be able to deal with it... sitting with four other people who are eating it. The very thought is making me feel ill. They can do whatever they want, but I don't want to have to see it.

The problem is that getting out of it is next to impossible if I want the next week (potentially much longer) of my life to be at all bearable. Okay maybe I'm being a tad melodramatic. But still, I feel like I am between a rock and a hard place here. Can't I just skip out on this one? Its not like they have nobody else to go with. Why does she refuse to accept that this is something that makes me very uncomfortable? I am pretty sure I will get there and freak out.

I will try soon to fix things, but likely I will spend tonight drinking overpriced wine and trying to appear normal while secretly wanting to run away and be silently sick.