Day 5

I love days off. I’d love it better if I could actually keep it off, but overtime is more money. I slept in late, made me a pot of coffee, and got to work around my house, cleaning, organizing, and redecorating. We’re taking a pullout couch that my stepdad’s mom gave me upstairs to my apartment tomorrow morning, and I’m going to use it as a temporary bed until I can afford a new mattress set. So I moved the craptastic futon-wannabe to my pc room, and moved my books around so there’d be room. I also dragged every stitch of clothing I own out to the living room so I can sort them. Going to the laundromat tomorrow, joy of joys.

Plain Jane boring til I got called in to work.

Showered, dressed, the usual, and walked into my store, and was promptly hit with a huge wave of WTF? In my last entry, I described what it feels like when my current and former vamps feed off of me. Well, it felt like all three weren’t just pulling my hair taut… It was like I was trying to be lifted off the ground by it. All three of them. Not in sync. That’d be too weird. First, it was my current one, right at the crown of my head, like she always feeds from. As soon as I get a chance, I’m dialing her from the phone next to my register. “Are you okay? You’re feeding so hard it hurts.” She appologized. She’s going through a lot of medical issues, and the stress got to her, so she didn’t notice how hard she was going at it.

The other two don’t really have an excuse. They haven’t been feeding properly. One has admitted it to me. The dumbass. If I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a thousand times. Feed yourself properly. If you don’t, you’ll get so low you’ll lash out and take what you need too fast and too hard, for both of us. I called him and bitched that he was pulling on my hair, since a customer came up to me, and for him to knock it off. It died down shortly afterward, but still a steady trickle to him.

The third one I haven’t talked to in a long while. And it’s not for me trying. He just never calls me back. But anyways… He’s a hybrid. He can get the psi energy he needs, easy peasy. It’s the blood he needs that throws him out of whack. I don’t think he has a blood donor. I haven’t offered. We’re three states apart, and I don’t think I’m ready to be a blood donor. I almost cried when I got my flu and pneumo shots.. Hurting myself on purpose I don’t know if I could do at this stage of my life. Maybe for him. I really care about him, you know? But since he hasn’t been getting the blood he needs, he needs to take in more psi energy to compensate, sort of. And apparently, he decided that I needed to help out. I texted him, asking if he was all right, and if he wasn’t, for him to call me at work. He didn’t call before I left, so I’m assuming he’s alright.

It’s over now. Headache’s gone, and I’m sitting at home in front of my pc with a glass of wine. Very nice. Submitted my last design for the VCMB’s tshirt contest, and now I’m just going to try to relax. Maybe I’ll call my brother, see if he’s on duty and listen to dispatch with him again. Our police version of MT3K is quite interresting, imo.

Pixie Out.