Ladies and gentlemen...welcome to the longest fucking week of my life...
It's amazing how it seems like the hours of my day click by so quickly...there's not enough time for me to get all the things I need to do taken care of...and yet...It seems like I'm living the same fucking day over and over and over again...never getting anything done.
I've been staring at the first paragraph of this essay I have to write for the past three hours... The question is so simple I can't find a way to answer it. The answer so clear I don't know how to get it onto paper. And this, only a tiny part of the application... so many different parts to still create...
On top of that...I'm a little freaked out about this monster truck thing. I have a serious invisibility complex...and I realize...it's going to be VERY difficult to be invisible while being filmed for national television.
On top of that...I'm fucking dieting...crash dieting, to be precise...not that I think I'm fat...but I figure that while I'm perfectly fine in real life...if the camera adds ten pounds...then I better fucking lose ten pounds immediately. I'm thick enough as it is...*sheesh*
The worst part is that I'm doing the no-carb thing this week...which means? No alcohol... Ok, so I'm a fucking drunk... I'm going to drink anyway...but I'm trying to limit my intake severely. So far this week I've only had one sorry assed shot of vodka. That's FOUR days people! One shot in FOUR days! Ugh, I could cry!
On top of that...the greaser. Yeah, fuck that bastard. Congratulations greaser, you've successfully killed whatever it was that was happening with us. I did the best I could. I gave you all the space you wanted. I never asked for a thing. I'm sorry it wasn't enough. So you win. Just know that I'd loved you, and I would have waited for you if I thought you were coming back for me.
Now I just need the balls to end the thing that never began...Good luck with that you fucking pansy (me).
Well...I'm gonna take another stab at this essay. I really want to have at least a rough draft done before leaving the office today...and yeah, it's already 6pm, so what?!
Then it's off to hapkido to sweat my problems away...
I love that the longer I've been on this site...the fewer comments I get in my journal. Sometimes I'm amazed at my ability to so fucking repulse people.
It's amazing how it seems like the hours of my day click by so quickly...there's not enough time for me to get all the things I need to do taken care of...and yet...It seems like I'm living the same fucking day over and over and over again...never getting anything done.
I've been staring at the first paragraph of this essay I have to write for the past three hours... The question is so simple I can't find a way to answer it. The answer so clear I don't know how to get it onto paper. And this, only a tiny part of the application... so many different parts to still create...
On top of that...I'm a little freaked out about this monster truck thing. I have a serious invisibility complex...and I realize...it's going to be VERY difficult to be invisible while being filmed for national television.
On top of that...I'm fucking dieting...crash dieting, to be precise...not that I think I'm fat...but I figure that while I'm perfectly fine in real life...if the camera adds ten pounds...then I better fucking lose ten pounds immediately. I'm thick enough as it is...*sheesh*
The worst part is that I'm doing the no-carb thing this week...which means? No alcohol... Ok, so I'm a fucking drunk... I'm going to drink anyway...but I'm trying to limit my intake severely. So far this week I've only had one sorry assed shot of vodka. That's FOUR days people! One shot in FOUR days! Ugh, I could cry!
On top of that...the greaser. Yeah, fuck that bastard. Congratulations greaser, you've successfully killed whatever it was that was happening with us. I did the best I could. I gave you all the space you wanted. I never asked for a thing. I'm sorry it wasn't enough. So you win. Just know that I'd loved you, and I would have waited for you if I thought you were coming back for me.
Now I just need the balls to end the thing that never began...Good luck with that you fucking pansy (me).
Well...I'm gonna take another stab at this essay. I really want to have at least a rough draft done before leaving the office today...and yeah, it's already 6pm, so what?!
Then it's off to hapkido to sweat my problems away...
I love that the longer I've been on this site...the fewer comments I get in my journal. Sometimes I'm amazed at my ability to so fucking repulse people.
oh, and you referred to someone as the greaser- you rock.