I don't want to make this the 'relationship angst' blog, but a Big Talk went on in this house last night. And the results, shall we say, are not in my favor. Rather than spending the next four months busting a gut hauling water to a pack of screaming dogs, I will be sweating over resumes geared towards finding a job in Vancouver. The conversation went kind of like this:
Me: Well, I have wanted to go work for a racer since I finished high school. This is the perfect time to do it.
BF: I don't want you to leave, I don't think I could finish this program without you.
Me: But I hate Vancouver. And I have no money. And there are very, very limited jobs available for me there.
BF: Well, if you are leaving, then I'm going to quit school and come with you.
ME: That's incredibly stupid.
BF: Well, it's how I feel.
Me: ...
How did this happen? I am honestly quite shocked. It's as if Someone Up There watched the sweat and struggle of an undergrad and thought, 'Hahaaaa, Laura THINKS that at the end of these years she will be free to do as she pleases, but I'm going to attach her to a man with an attractive beard and the heart of a kitten and see how this goes."
I don't really know who is in the right here, but I feel exhausted. And very, very sad.
Also, yesterday I made a baked breakfast pancake with a mound of eggs. It came out all fluffy and golden, but fell almost immediately, Yorkshire-pudding style. So bad times all around.
