Went to High Hill ranch again. This time Marie’s parents, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend came with. The Ranch is over in Placerville so it’s about 45 minutes or so away. They ended up leaving late which gave Marie and I enough time to finish picking up around the apartment. It was much needed. Maybe a part of my stress came from the clutter, mixed with the fact that I didn’t have the energy (or the reason) to pick anything up.
Altogether it was a nice day. Nothing really new to see at the ranch. Tried some Indian fry bread and fell in love, had some delicious vanilla/pecan ice cream with Marie and fell in love again. Amelia rode a new pony this time around and it snorted a few times when she pet him. She loves those animals. Too, she got her face painted like a fox this time, not a tiger.
When we got home I made pizza dough and used Marie’s dad’s home-made sauce for the, well, sauce. The pizzas were great, and I’m not too bad at making the dough now. They all left around 8:30pm which was really nice for me. If they stay too late I start to stress because it dips into my (relatively unstructured) evening routine. But more so sometimes I just don’t have the energy to entertain the in-laws.
Truth be told I have been really strapped for energy ever since the bowling alley. Part of me really loved it and had a great time, but looking back I think I was drinking so hard in order to enjoy myself. I had never hung out with my work friends outside of work, and they had never seen me like that, either. It can be a little annoying. I’m very professional in the office, to the point where I can maybe be a little stiff. I’m pretty professional with everything I do because I have a really hard time letting my guard down. I think it stems from my anxiety: I want to be accepted for who I am as a person, but deep down I think the person I want to be cuts across the grain too much, so I assume people will resent me for it. Realistically these are self-love issues that extend into social fear, but even then, I would like it if people assumed I was more than a stern-looking, grumpy son of a fuck.