At work, starving, and unable to print. I could ask the computer guy, and I'm sure he could fix it, but he just stepped out and I don't feel like being productive. Which brings me here, with an empty stomach and constant fretting.
The hunger, unlike the fretting, feels good.
I decided I'm running away next week. Three weeks will have passed since I last got to see Matt, and Jesus H Christ on ice, I'm losing my damn mind.I miss him (like the deserts miss the rain).
The closer this wedding gets, the higher my anxiety levels go. My contract will be ending right around the time of the bachelor(ette) party. Of course, the plan seems to be going to Vegas. Which I really can't afford, between saving and drinking (which is the only thing saving my sanity right now) and overall living expenses, that doesn't leave too much to play with. Unfortunately right now, getting out of Michigan is more important than going to Vegas. I can save and go to Vegas anytime. And there's still the whole matter of who do I take to the wedding? Is this going to be about my sanity or hers? I'm probably going to be a drunk sour Sally already because having photographic evidence of me standing next to striptease falcon gazelle amazons is already going to be enough to send me over the edge. Not to mention that I can't even properly celebrate my birthday, which will at least put me on the sad sack bus and make it have a layover in pissy town. But I feel like shit because this is supposed to be about her and not about me. Read as: minimal drama. Things may or may not get shitty if I bing Matt, so I have Richard as a backup date. *gasp for breath* Aaaaaaaaaand let's not ignore that I have to buy my dress, a present, my shoes, my hair, crash diet like hell...I'm going to try to have a chic, economical wedding, because this is absolutely bonkers.
I've considered writing to an etiquitte column for guidance on what's appropriate. Upon consult of my peers, they seem to advise against low-cut dresses with sky high heels. The heels are non negotiable. I'm going to need a 4-inch minimum.
I am a bad daughter. I didn't forget my mom's birtday, but I forgot a card and a present. I also forgot that offering to buy dinner doesn't fix that. I also forgot that my mom is psycho about cards and forgetting one is on par with forgetting her birthday.
I'm thirsty, but I'm drying out. Thursday is the only day I'm allowed to drink until the end of March. I gotta go to Name That Tune at the Bench Pub and dominate. It's like joining a soccer team, only its getting drunk with Katy. And I'm good. Really good. Like Alliance offers good. Like the only thing I'm excelling at good.
I got invited to the gym. I don't know if I'm flattered or offended. Or maybe people were just tired of hearing me bitch about my weight.
Pretty sure once April hits, I'm undergoing a metamorphasis. Can we say pixie cut?
Pixie cut.
And once summer happens, this shit is going to be pink and/or blonde.
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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