I was halfway through this entry and wordpress ate it. FML.
Not approved for a loan because I owe too many people money. FML.
Could get a loan with a cosigner, but lose all first time buyer programs. FML.
Had a last minute project dumped in my lap yesterday. FML.
Finished it only to have it drastically change at 5:40pm after I had sent everything off to press. FML.
Hurry up to do all changes. Project is cancelled as I’m finishing them. FML.
I spilled strawberry juice on my white hoodie. FML.
I did a Career Builder search for graphic designers in Tampa. All that came up was the ARMY. FML.
I found a mystery $70 charge on my debit card today. FML.
I am done. I am sick of being responsible for everyone and everything. I am sorry, Hobnobs. I don’t think I can help you anymore. I am not your girlfriend, I am not your wife and I don’t think I want to be your roommate anymore. Sure it was a fun idea when I thought you would help me get a house, but now that that plan is out the window…you kind of bore me and annoy me. Talking to you is a chore now and not fun like it used to be. I don’t want to rent somewhere and throw my money away. Money that could get my stupid ass out of debt so that I can get a house. I don’t know how to tell you this. I’m not going to for now. I should soon, or else I will majorly fuck you over. Not my intention, but you’re becoming a liability. You have to go.
I haven’t talked to Banky in a few days. I am thinking about calling him tomorrow and making him go to that show with me. The BNB ignored my question about whether or not he’s going. I think they’re all crashing at his place is what he told me a few months ago. One would assume he’d be going. I guess he’s ignoring me. Whatever. I don’t care. I don’t care about anything right now except going home and closing my eyes and putting Tennessee on repeat. I think I may shed some tears, ya’ll.
I am going to allow myself tonight to be all weepy and shit. Tomorrow I will get up and be productive. I will organize all of my shit and start purging. I will clean and it will feel good. Then I will go see that show. Even if it’s alone. Live music always cheers me up. I may even splurge and go buy myself some whiskey. I drank all mine on St. Patrick’s day. Tis a sin not to have Jameson in my house. Well, home. I CAN’T HAVE A HOUSE. I want to be petty and blame it all on Douche McGee. I should sue his ass for alimony.
I’ll miss you when I’m lonely, I’ll miss the alimony too.
I have been thinking about him a lot lately. Not anything in particular. Things that bother me though. I can hear his voice so clear in my head, but I can’t for the life of me remember what his laugh sounds like. That’s sad. We laughed all the time. Why can’t I remember it? I remember the way his eyes crinkled…but I can’t hear it. I’m still pretty pissed off at him over that last email. I’m more proud of myself for not replying. I know I can do it. I can forget him eventually. I’m already forgetting the good, I just need to let the bad go.
So, some of you may be wondering why I’m looking for jobs in Tampa. That’s out of left field, right? Well…yes and no. How serious am I about it? I’m curious. Let’s say that. April holds the answers to a lot of questions. For once, I’m not afraid of the answers. I’m even hopeful. I just need to kick this Banky habit. Is that going to stop me from asking him to go Saturday? Probably not. I like to be an asshole to myself too. I need to know that I can be around him and go home alone.
I’ll admit I was unfaithful. From now on I’ll be more faithful.
I’m thisclose to putting myself back on probation. A life of celibacy and no men is no fun. But it is simple. Very simple. That “date” the other night…I cancelled on Tuesday and thought I got stood up on Wednesday. Turned out I was the one who was doing the standing up. I was supposed to text or call. Well…it was ANTM night. And when I get texts about how much you enjoy my company and a beer is a small price to pay for time with me…it scares me. I don’t think you’re ready for me yet. I can’t give you anything. I’m not sure I can give anyone, anything right now.
Well, I feel better now. It’s all out. I’ve said it. Now I have to find the courage to say it to the people I need to. FML.
UPDATE: At 4:30…on a Friday…my boss tells me she needs to speak to me. My boss is satan in Barbie’s clothes. I am worried. It is a last minute project. One that has to be completed and in Tampa on Monday. I am waiting on her piece. Mine has been done for 30 minutes. Why can’t I be in Tampa on Monday? FML.