note: this is the third entry in a trilogy, so back-track to keep up, yes? Great!

Alright, not much more to it, though the story does carry all the way into today! Where'd I leave off... yes, she called me late into Friday night, and I finally let her know that I was just going to spend some downtime with friends, and that I would be unavailable until after Christmas, so I'd talk to her then.

That didn't stop her from calling me and leaving several messages (I didn't count the amount of times she called without leaving a message) over the next few days. That she was home, could stand to use a call, wanted to wish me a good holiday, wanted to confirm our date, yadda yadda yadda. I recognized the number she called from and intentionally did not answer the phone when she called, because I was busy with family (as I said I would be) and not up for a talk with her.

Then, today, she called. From a different number. Yesterday was to be our date, but I truly was bedridden, and every time I spoke to a friend or family member on the phone, I ended up coughing and sneezing for a good while afterwards. I kept it simple, I wrapped myself up in a blanket with a gallon of water, a quart of orange juice, and an Anne Rice novel and I didn't want to get up until I was done with all of them, including this fucking illness that had overtaken me. Kinda sucked on Christmas to not make it to the dinner table with my family, but that just goes to show you how sick I really was, and it was nowhere in my mind to make a call to Caska to cancel our tentative plans when I knew I didn't have the energy to talk to anyone, let alone HER, especially after she'd proven in the matter of a day to be so immediately draining.

So, she called and I answered. "Ah, NOW you're answering your phone!" I explained that I'd been sick and busy, and that yes, I hadn't really been attainable, but I was unapologetic about it. She told me that as of today, she is homeless. Remember a few entries ago, that she had invited me to "her" house? Well, she was on a temporary assignment through an agency and had apparently taken up residence (against the company's wishes and policies) in the house where the office was built. They found her out yesterday and immediately fired her and kicked her out, then said she was not to return to the premises.

Adios, Mio! What the fuck? She has stuff in the cellar and needs to get it, wanted me to help her devise a plan for her to get it back, seeing as she can't go anywhere near the building. Jesus, Mary & Joseph. I do not have the energy, time, or desire to get involved in this woman's life. I feel for her, really I do. But I just lost my job too. I just moved in with my father. I'm already on the "being helped" wagon, I can't start inviting friends along up here with me, it's not conducive to what *I* need right now, and frankly, Scarlett, I'm the ONLY person I really give a damn about.

So that leaves us here. She keeps calling today, and I told her that I feel for her, that I hope she has friends to take her in, but that I am busy. We'll see how far this goes before I have to do or say anything drastic. It's like inviting the vampire into your home. Only this is the energy-sucking kind, the blood-sucking kind is almost preferable to me right now.

In other news, I am well, my friends are well, I am adjusting, and hibernating just a bit. I'll be out again soon, trust me. Fizgig called last night from Pennsylvania (I think that's where his family is), already making New Year's Eve plans. So just you wait, Henry Higgins. My father gone on New Year's Eve and li'l ol' me, all better and ready to party? It's on.

-Barbarella

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