Pouting with arms crossed– pleading for independence

In my life in PR, my expenses are paid for by work. In NY, they are not. (Of course, my NY bills are three times more than the ones here.) The company is headquartered in PR, but I work in both places. My moving here was because of the company. My life in NY existed before  . . . 

So, this double life never lacks oddities. This week, I have turned into a possessive child . . . agreeing but pouting in my room. Incidents are stacking up everyday that are forcing me to confront my issues with independence. (Indirectly, it has made me realize that perhaps my strong need for independence is what has me attracted to unavailable men.)


It’s Friday and the car I use in PR, which is owned by my boss, is being used for the 5th consecutive day by an employee to do work errands as his car is uninsured at the moment. (So, much for the dry cleaning drop off at lunch and eating something other than Subway, the only grub within walking distance.) It’s odd as I feel like a 5 year-old who is horrible at sharing. I sit here my lip turned out, my arms imaginarily folded stubbornily instead of typing . . . and i want my car, WAAAAAAAAAA! Ironically, I don’t use it very often during the day as I am confined to my desk, but knowing I can’t leave has initiated an anxiety. Last week, I had planned to leave at 3pm and the car didn’t come back until 6pm. I missed a meeting this week. Etc. 

Even worse, I had to fix the flat from taking the client to Pinones and pay for a new tire on Sunday . . (will explain the story later) 

In PR, nothing is MINE . . yet do I have a right to be possessive, if I don’t directly foot the bills? (although i paid for all sheets, curtains, flowers, cleaning, gas, flights, etc)

This past week has included a client staying in my apartment, which has slowly turned into the “corporate apartment” with a revolving door policy, instead of my apartment, the power being lost for 5 days and out of my control to fix, my car being taken and now the “roommate” of the corporate apartment is here . . (supposedly someone who would be here 4 days a month. I had agreed, but now I just want to say GET OUT! I want sex in my apartment without fear that someone will stroll through the door. GO AWAY! I want to leave it messy and not feeling like someone may enter at any time.) I have had independence my entire life. No parental constraints and now as an adult, I cannot handle living like a child for the first time in my existence . . sigh

i want to scream. I want something to be mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.


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