I'm at work, just trying to waste time before I'm required to attend some firework display at 10 o'clock. It's fucking freezing outside. I don't want to go stand outside for 2 hours.
Today has been a reasonable day. I'm really looking forward to getting off work and drinking vodka. I have a great excuse for getting wasted so quickly too... I have to catch up! Everyone should be good and drunk by the time I get to the party - and hopefully I get there before midnight.
I wish I were drunk right now, but my job requires me to drive.
Looking around the office, there's a lot of baby pictures at work. A lot of young families, you know. I wish I had a baby. I often dream that I'm a parent. If my chosen career fails me, I'd like to open up a daycare. Kids are so awesome. They're so clever, and their thought process is so unique. Children are often smarter than what they're given credit for.
I'd never drink again if I had a baby, and I like that idea. My mom drank while she was pregnant with me. Not the whole pregnancy, but for the first month for sure. She didn't know she was pregnant. I guess that's an excuse. I'm not like, fucked up or anything because of it. I mean... I don't have FAS.
I am a fucked up individual though.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
After Thought
Sometimes I think that my boyfriend doesn't think I'm sexy enough. For example, this morning I put on a tight dress to model for him as a possible New Years outfit. He was doing something on his laptop and glanced up at me quickly and shrugged. "Cool." That's all I got out of him. He hates it when I wear clothes that I think are sexy because he think that I look slutty.
Correction: He thinks that other people will think I look slutty. That doesn't make any fucking sense, but it's what he said. So I just take it as he's the one who thinks I look slutty. Then I feel bad about myself and the way I look and go change into something more conservative.
I have no idea what the hell I'm going to wear tonight! My boyfriend will already be at the party since I don't finish work until 11pm. Maybe I shouldn't even go. I'll revert back to Plan C and get drunk in my bedroom wearing whatever the fuck I want to wear!
Correction: He thinks that other people will think I look slutty. That doesn't make any fucking sense, but it's what he said. So I just take it as he's the one who thinks I look slutty. Then I feel bad about myself and the way I look and go change into something more conservative.
I have no idea what the hell I'm going to wear tonight! My boyfriend will already be at the party since I don't finish work until 11pm. Maybe I shouldn't even go. I'll revert back to Plan C and get drunk in my bedroom wearing whatever the fuck I want to wear!
On Feeling Hungry
Whenever I'm upset about something I can't eat. My body just doesn't let me. The thought of swallowing the tiniest morsel of food makes me sick. I'm glad for that though. A lot of people get depressed and eat cookies. Then they get fat.
Yesterday I bought the $6 lunch special from work - quiche and soup - and I literally ate one bite of the quiche and a few spoonfuls of soup. It was too much. I had to stop. I stared at it for twenty minutes, stirring the soup with the little plastic spoon I was given to eat it with. Then I threw it in the trash. I couldn't eat because I had no New Years plans. Then things got figured out and I DO have New Years plans. By that time it was too late to get more lunch and I went hungry. I have this love hate relationship with food. I know that I need it to survive, but I hate it and wish I didn't.
I used to only eat enough to keep me from fainting. I lived on Cheerios and apple juice. Now I eat 3 meals a day. I always used to tell myself growing up that I would never get fat. Now I'm fat and I hate myself. My boyfriend always tells me that I'm not fat, but I honestly think that I am. I need to lose 30 pounds in order to be happy with my weight.
Yesterday I bought the $6 lunch special from work - quiche and soup - and I literally ate one bite of the quiche and a few spoonfuls of soup. It was too much. I had to stop. I stared at it for twenty minutes, stirring the soup with the little plastic spoon I was given to eat it with. Then I threw it in the trash. I couldn't eat because I had no New Years plans. Then things got figured out and I DO have New Years plans. By that time it was too late to get more lunch and I went hungry. I have this love hate relationship with food. I know that I need it to survive, but I hate it and wish I didn't.
I used to only eat enough to keep me from fainting. I lived on Cheerios and apple juice. Now I eat 3 meals a day. I always used to tell myself growing up that I would never get fat. Now I'm fat and I hate myself. My boyfriend always tells me that I'm not fat, but I honestly think that I am. I need to lose 30 pounds in order to be happy with my weight.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
New Start
New Years is something I usually look forward to. The high from Christmas carries me through until the end of the year. Then things go down hill.
Apparently depression is starting early this year. I've been feeling like shit for a few hours at at time every couple of weeks. Nothing major.
But today is the start of something bigger. I can feel it... and of course it had to start on the eve of new years eve.
Fuck.
My New Year's plans have been foiled for the second time this month.
Plan A, get off work and go 2 hours out of town for New Years.
Plan foiled due to my shift being a night shift.
Plan B, get off the night shift and go to a party in town.
Plan foiled due to the host not allowing me to bring my friend with me because too many people were invited.
Plan C, drink alone in my bedroom after work because I have no other New Years plans.
And we have a winner, Plan C, come up to the podium please to accept your prize.
New Years doesn't even mean anything, you know. It's just another inflated day. I really shouldn't care, but I do. I care because, just like everyone else, I want my pathetic life to mean something, and I want to start the year off "right" by doing something awesome.
Apparently depression is starting early this year. I've been feeling like shit for a few hours at at time every couple of weeks. Nothing major.
But today is the start of something bigger. I can feel it... and of course it had to start on the eve of new years eve.
Fuck.
My New Year's plans have been foiled for the second time this month.
Plan A, get off work and go 2 hours out of town for New Years.
Plan foiled due to my shift being a night shift.
Plan B, get off the night shift and go to a party in town.
Plan foiled due to the host not allowing me to bring my friend with me because too many people were invited.
Plan C, drink alone in my bedroom after work because I have no other New Years plans.
And we have a winner, Plan C, come up to the podium please to accept your prize.
New Years doesn't even mean anything, you know. It's just another inflated day. I really shouldn't care, but I do. I care because, just like everyone else, I want my pathetic life to mean something, and I want to start the year off "right" by doing something awesome.
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