… to deal with what is going on in this house. i can not continue to walk on eggshells to keep from setting two bipolar people off. i am always the target, for either one of them. and neither of them are willing to see that they are indeed classically bi-polar and do anything about it. one was hard enough….
weekend trip to Cal coming up soon. i’ll make sure to keep a notebook, it will help me write Jamie better among other things.
Two hours later she was out on the highway, top of her midnight blue jeep down, driving fast enough to warrant a reckless driving ticket should some cop decide he didn’t have anything better to do than pull her over today.
She was a little annoyed that the day was so ridiculously beautiful. A sunny 85 degrees outside. And as she looked at the bay as she drove past, she noticed the surf was perfect. Not at all suited to her mood. Probably why she decided she should move to sunny SoCal, land where the gorgeous and plastic rule. She was neither of those things. But the perpetually almost perfect weather, sand, ocean and physical strenuousness of surfing did a lot to keep her from slipping into her almost perpetually angry state that caused her to snap at people and write depressing music. And drink more than she should.
She brushed the lock of hair that caught in the frames of her wayfarers aside and pulled her Jeep down the ramp, off PCH1 and east into the city that sprawled along the shore rather than west and toward the beach where she’d rather be. Back to the expensive, but tiny one bed room apartment she’d rented on a whim. Whatever. Better than Tulsa for sure. Hot, humid, and held nothing to tie her there anymore. She shook her head to keep her thoughts from roaming back yet again. She didn’t care how many “I’m sorries” she heard, or how blue those eyes were. She was done. No Daddy, no Jimmy? No reason for Jamie to stay. Not one.
She was so concentrated on ridding herself of random thoughts sitting at the red light; it took her a minute to realize that the sound of metal on metal was coming from behind her at the same time her body lurched forward.
“What the fuck?” She looked up into her rearview mirror as she whipped off her seat belt. She saw a flash of dark hair and some masculine shoulders in the reflection and turned all the way around in her seat. She flipped up her sunglasses, fastening her hair behind her ears with them. Her scowl said it all. She remained silent as the blue-eyed, dark haired guy that just crunched her Jeep’s bumper tried to stammer an apology.
“Are you all right?” he asked again.
“I am. Not so sure about my Jeep.” She kept scowling.
“Really, I’m sorry. I looked up, the light was green, I hit the gas… but you didn’t? I should have blown the horn… didn’t you see the light was green?”
All she could do was stare.
“Umm…” he was waiting for her answer, but she was pretty damn sure the light was red.
“Yeah. Um. About that. The light was still red?” she flipped her sunglasses down and ran a hand through her hair.
“Pretty sure it was green. Or I wouldn’t have put my foot on the gas?” he was smiling at her like she was mentally impaired. Or two years old.
“The hell it was…” She felt the familiar burn in her veins as her blood began to boil. She really needed to learn to temper her temper. She took a deep breath, glad she could hide behind her sunglasses.