People were CRAZEH today, ya’ll. I don’t even know what the hell was going on. This week has been up and down and all over the place. I. am. tired.
I cried a lot tonight. I’m so totally overwhelmed by life. It doesn’t have anything (much) to do with anyone in particular, (read- a boy) life is just getting hard. I am broke. Like painfully broke. It sucks. I do nothing but pay bills and there’s nothing left. A budget ain’t going to help at this point. I. am. fuuuuucked. I work way more than 40 hours a week at the real job, so if I do a part time gig it’ll be weekends only. I’ll be a fucking treat come Monday morning.
I’m about to have some come to Jesus talks with the credit card companies. You raise my interest again, I’ma raise my fist into your face. Understood? For fuck’s sake. I do my best, I try my hardest, it ain’t workin’. Cut a girl some slack, shit.
That’s the main thing that’s got my p’s in a twist right now. Numero dos? The fucking dreams are back. Ever since the date with the Zookeeper (it’s coming…in a big way…yeah, yeah that’s what she said) the dreams about Douche McGee have been back in full effect. I don’t even have to like the dude I go out with. It always ends up the same. Go on date, have creepy realistic dreams about ex. My subconscious hates my ass. The one from last night? Oh this one is good. I had a secret meeting with him at my favorite bar. Who walks in? Banky. Of course. Let’s just deal with all my unresolved issues at once. I lied to Banky in my dream and told him Douche was someone else. He then decides to join us for drinks. If that happened in real life (it totally would because it’s my life) I would slit my damn wrists. Seriously brain, shut up.
Someone I would never have drinks with if Douche was involved? Guam. I had an excellent talk today with one of my oldest friends. We’ve been friends for about 12 years…but never met. A girl he went to school with moved a few states away and started going to school with me. This was back in the stoneages before Twitter, facebook and Myspace so all we had was email. And email we did. She would forward my emails with my snarky comment and…I say this because he reads this and I know he’ll love this…he fell in lurve with me. For years Wifey swore he and I were going to get married. It didn’t exactly turn out that way, he’s married to a lovely girl now and I abhor marriage, but we’re still friends.
He went into the Navy and traveled all over the world. He’d call me from time to time from exotic locals. Imagine sitting in your dorm room and getting a phone call (on a regular phone, not a cell) from Guam. Guam! So that’s your nickname, pal. Guam. Hey, it could be worse. I could call you Tropic Thunder. Ew. Read the rest of this entry »
