I know I am not perfect. I swear I've been aware of this for quite some time. I can't shake this feeling that I'm less than because I'm not perfect. Everyone seems to be disappointed, even though I'm still trying.
I like steady paychecks. And insurance. That's the only thing keeping me at this job. Yesterday I had to come in, even though the kids had the day off. I did about five minutes of actual work and then proceeded to bitch like Dante from Clerks about how I wasn't supposed to be here today. It doesn't look good for my grad school fund.
I still have today off and I am going to shop and remind myself about how drunk I'm going to get Saturday. Saturday is the official bridesmaids meet and greet, and I can solidify what I knew all along: beached whales are my spirit animal. We are all shopping together, and the only way this will not end in tears is if I have enough rum and wine in me to kill a large dog. I just have to be careful if I try on shoes. The last thing I need to pay for is a pair of shoes I barely like because I drunkenly toppeled off a pair of 4 inch heels and broke them.
Things with Matthew are still good, even though I can't help but wonder how attracted he is to a fat girlfriend. We're still talking about moving in, and I'm still wondering how I'm going to explain that one to my mother. Everything I come up with sounds like a bad sitcom/ romantic comedy plot. I miss him always and today is particularly bad. Another year of this is not going to fly. Just once I'd like to live in the same city as someone I'm dating. Give that a whirl and see what the fuss is about.
My hair is growing out. Slowly, but surely.
Now I'm going to play Animal Crossing and wish someplace delivered bagels.
About Me
- Xlynn
- I live my life by song lyrics, have a chronic/terminal case of smartassitis and and currently taking medication to combat a particularly hearty strain of Don'tgiveafuck syndrome. I do the 22k in april to raise money for research. I appreciate your prayers. I'm also a sarcastic, habitual liar. ...sometimes. You will be my new best friend if you can tell me exactly what the fuck Paul Simon and Julio Were doing down by the schoolyard, the exact location of Carmen Sandiego, and the real words to "Blinded By The Lights" (revved up like a deuce, you know, a roller in the night?). I will date you if you can name 3 Green Day albums that aren't American Idiot. I'm a handful but my friends love me. good luck!
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