Optimism as cultural rebellion.

I love that Dr. Drew wears a stethoscope while walking around sex rehab.

What could he possibly be stethoscoping?

Same vein.

I had a really terrible day, you guys.

I got some news that provoked an anxiety attack, and I realized all my former methods of stress-release no longer worked.

I couldn’t drink/smoke(pot) out of it cause it was noon, and I had to be at work soon.

I couldn’t fuck my way out of it, cause last time I tried that it was…unsatisfactory… which left me more frustrated and sad then before.
(Have you ever had an anxiety-attack post-coitus? Dude thinks your shaking is due to his amazing skillz, little does he know you are calculating the shortest amount of steps needed to take to get from your spot to your bra to the door, while waiting for him to pass out so you can avoid explanation.)

I couldn’t ice cream my way out of it because my body was a big part of the frustration.

I couldn’t shop my way out of it because again…with the ice cream.

And I couldn’t just focus on throwing myself in to work because part of my stress was due to sending sexy texts to a co-worker that I had drank with the night prior, whom I’ve had a stupid crush on forever. Even though we formerly spent most of our shifts talking, we suceeded in not making eye contact all night. (And for the record, I think I am a MUCH better catch than he, but he is a “10” to my “6-7ish,” so he will never really want me back, but my goal is to get him to settle for a very casual fling.)

So I actually said to myself, in the bathroom at work post-shift,”Today was not a good day, but it wasn’t the worst. It is what it is.”

Then, and I got to my car I got a text from one of my favorite people, that I see all too rarely. She asked me to meet her and her boyfriend for a drink. So I went, in work pants and a tank top, hair still in a ponytail.

And you guys, I had so much game spit my way. The bartender made all my drinks doubles on him, and dudes let me cut in line and offfered to buy (they didn’t, because I NEVER let dudes buy my drinks, that’s a one-way ticket to rapeville, but you can still be gracious in the decline). After that, it was like a revolving door of barely-legal boys taking turns to kiss my ring. At one point, one dude sent over a drink while I was talking to another. He thought that was funny, and I just let it sit there.

I left quickly, and with no numbers in hand, but it has been SO long since I’ve had any male attention. It’s such a stupid, petty thing to make me happy. I know this.

But, fuck, when happiness is this elusive, I will take what I can get. And when such a big part of my stress was due to feeling forever undesireable, then yeah, freshly-minted 21-year-olds being totally smitten by my fucking charm is EXACTLY the ego boost I need.

Fuck yeah. I’m going to be alright.

Worst spelling mistake ever!

So drunk.

Best Vetrans’s Day Ever!

I am really thirsty. 

I have a 1.5 liter bottle of Aquafina sitting by my feet.

I can’t get it open. I have BLISTERS on my palm from trying. I cut off the ring around the bottom with a pocket knife. No avail. It seems a cap much to small for it was forced on to it by some machine much stronger than I.

I am getting ready to jab my knife in the side, to suck out the watery goodness.

And oh yeah. It was on sale for 10/$10.

So I have ten of these.

And they are all the same. 

Oh yeah. And I’m drunk in bed by 11pm because I am a stupid girl who hasn’t had a Friday night off in over 18 months. So I started drinking at 4pm, and completely missed the music circle my friends were having at their loft tonight. But I don’t care. Cause my bed is amazing and that sounds like a bunch of hippie shit anyway. And I have my cats. And Dan Akroyd.