Holy Ground (Taylor's Version)

Chapter 2

Dear piece of shit book,

Sorry for the aggressive opening, I just wanted us to start out both being mad at me. God, I fucking hate myself. Do you want to know what I did today? 

It started off at four in the morning. My shift doesn't start until five-thirty. Normally on my five-thirty starting days, I roll out of bed at five, brush my teeth, and go to work, not taking a single second to try and work on my appearance, but today was different. I was supposed to work on neuro with Dr. Derek Shepherd so, like the pathetic person I am, I tried today. 

I got up a full hour earlier than I would normally. I don't have an hour of sleep to spare, but I did it anyway. I put a full face of makeup on. There was concealer and eyeliner and a deep plum lipstick. Then after spending half an hour putting it on, I took it all off. I decided that it was too aggressive. So instead I put on a shade of lipstick which is basically my natural lip color and I put on some mascara which probably did nothing but make my eyelashes clumpy. 

Then later when I was working with the perfect Dr. Derek Shepherd, I made sure to keep my distance. It didn't matter that my purpose and goal that day was to get him to notice me, I still never spoke to him or stood within five feet of him when I didn't have to. I did this so that I "wouldn't come on too strong." What the actual fuck?

I didn't come on at all. In fact, I came off. (Now this is sounding kind of dirty, trust me diary, nothing dirty happened. I wish something dirty happened) I gave this man more space than I would if I had absolutely no feelings towards him. I couldn't even get myself to have a polite conversation with him. What is wrong with me?

Then- THEN I had the audacity to be annoyed at him for not noticing me. What sort of psycho mentality do I have? He obviously wouldn't notice me, I never even gave him the chance to notice me. He's actually not even supposed to notice me, I'm his subordinate. I'm pretty sure It actually would be an HR violation if he made a comment about my make-up, and yet, I can't help but be annoyed at him. Jackass. 

And even worse. One of my colleagues, George O'Malley, did notice. I probably wouldn't have even been able to notice if I was wearing makeup but apparently he could. And I found that creepy. The whole point of me wearing makeup today was for Dr. Shepherd to notice. (Wow does that sound pathetic) Then when someone else noticed, I found it mildly stalkery. 

In other news, I decided I like keeping a diary. It organizes my thoughts. It's like I'm telling someone my feelings but not really. I also walked to the psych floor today during lunch. I didn't eat with the others because I didn't want George to make a comment about my makeup in front of the others and have everyone ask questions or make a thing out of it. They probably wouldn't, because who actually gives a fuck about what I put on my face? I could probably wear a full face of clown makeup and no one would even care because no one really cares about me, but whatever. 

Back to the point, I went to the psych floor. I just walked around, peering through windows, probably looking like a serial killer. That's the sort of thing a serial killer would do, right? I'm not a serial killer. I promise. I didn't make an appointment with a therapist but I was in the general vicinity of one so that has to count for something. 

Goals for tomorrow: Have a polite conversation with Derek Shepherd, avoid George (he's creepy), and research therapists

(I planned out how this is going to go more. I'm going to keep this in the diary format but when important conversations and scenes come, I'm going to write them in italics like she is remembering them. Let me know what you think of the story so far!)