Aug 22 1999

Saturday and Sunday

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(after 2 days with Anne, the time kinda flowed together, I could not seperate a series of events from day to day, so I just combined them in no particular order)

I get to Anne’s by 9:30 and sort of set an agenda with her. But it is out the window in the first 2 hours. I try to get her computer working (which should only take a couple of hours, but she insists on talking to me while I am working. I smile and go on working, but frankly I resent the intrusion. Then when we finally start to look at her design, it is back to the drawing board all over again. Change this, Why can’t we hange that again? I don’t like this, can we do it again? And on and on. By the time we finally crash I have had to re-work every single page we designed with the exception of the 2 “intro slide show” pages. I am livid. I feel like I have gotten nothing done. I can tell that Anne is not happy either. We head out for dinner, and talk about it, and I (politely) let her know I am not happy with the re-and-re-and-redesign situation.

We take a walk that night and Anne starts in about my choice of recreaton. I let it slide. But I can tell the lecture is going to be particularly painful tonight. In an effort to change the subject I star talking about my search for goals and purpose. She counters with a “life is what happens when you are waiting for something to happen” remark. And leads in with a trite remark about “seeing joy in every thing every day.” I really want to tell her that I tried it, and the only thing that happened was that my life still sucked but I wasn’t bitter about it. But before I even get that far she starts attacking me telling me my faults and my shortcomings. I change the subject gain going back to thie design of the site, and tell he an idea I think might make it easier on us.

She takes it and runs with it. I set it up when we get back, and she starts in right away. Good deal, this will cut my work in half and give her a lot more control over the design. On the way out the door, I remember the haircut. I know I need to get home and do my end of this work I also have laundry, and I’d like to get some reading in…But when Anne gets an idea, its like a disease…all you can do is ride it out, no matter how unpleasant it is.

So, I have to get a haircut, which of course if Anne’s excuse to offer me all of her “pithy wisdom” about how badly screwed up my life is. And in fact its not the advise I resent, its the fucking delivery! Anne’s idea of “helping” is to get insulting. She calls me a “5 year old” and more or less treats me like a child. I want to smack the shit out of her. I am so angry I am biting my tounge and she keeps it up. I just shut up, take it, and am in more than a hurry to get the whole thing over with. By the time Iget home (after 9:30pm…I had wanted to be home by 8) I am too upset to get anything done. I play with downloading my mail, give up, shut off the computer and watch TV while I simmer. I get one load done, but then leave it in the drier.