Sight For Sore Eyes

I spent this morning on a good note; I woke early, showered, prepared breakfast, and watched a documentary on Netflix. In the history of good starts from 1 to 10, I'd say this was like, I dunno, a strong 8. 
I applied for a job at Gawker today, totally rad. I'm not sure if they'll even take a look at me but I'll share the email I sent them with you:

 Attached is a resume, a photo of a cat, and a link to my current blog where you will find all the writing samples you could ever want. I would love the opportunity to work for a publication in which I could utilize my liberal arts degree and finally confirm that the thousands of dollars spent on formal education was in fact not all for naught. Should you decide to pass on me, no hard feelings, but I pray thee finds me at the very least a serious contender.

Best regards,

Elle Kay

Attached was this photo

Tabby Cat is Tabby

I don't know what'll happen, but I've got to keep trying.

As the day wore on, the air thickened with moisture and the sky greyed, a prototypical omen of omens.

I was on my way to work when I spotted Tim sitting outside the bar he works at smoking a cigarette and talking to a girl I'd recognized for the last time he and I had spoken. I could feel the ball of ice in my stomach reach critical temperature, I was growing increasingly unstable, and my mother rambled on, and on making me beyond nauseous. This girl in the black skirt and the black shirt with brunette hair liked Tim and I could see that he too was at least quasi-interested (mind you this was like, a mere 35 second observation). I want to kill her, and all the other "her's" that might look his way, but especially her.

I tried my best to maintain composure, attempting to subdue the tremendous fire of jealousy and unabashed full on ire, and it worked for approximately 10 minutes. I found my way to work, walked into the backroom, sat on an empty cooler, and began to sob. I shook with fury and the thoughts flooded:

How could he move on so soon? Why does he not love me? What did I do to ruin this? Why did he forget about me? 

I thought about how I'd visit him at work before we dated and I wondered if she was doing what I'd done only 6 months prior. Perhaps this girl and I weren't so different. I proceeded to do the most asinine thing one could do in a situation like this and had a full blown text message breakdown. 

i divulged every emotion as it simultaneously ran through my entire body, I voiced the anger I feel, because to say "felt" would suggest that I am not angry anymore and that just isn't so,  not my finest moment. I finished with this

I guess I'm just not ready

And I know this to be true, but I also know that time heals all wounds, but it just does it excruciatingly slow. 

Whatever, time. 

I'll stop talking about this soon, but I'm still not over it and I need to say the things in my head lest I act foolishly.

God help me see this through.