Get paid. Pay your bills. Spend $80 at Sephora. Budget tightly until the next payday.
and I saw some yoga pants for 97 cents. I obviously had to buy them. Then I realized that they’re maternity yoga pants. I said to myself “yolo” and bought them anyway.
I’m so thankful for my maternity yoga pants right now. Some friends and I decided to take advantage of TGI Friday’s unlimited appetizer menu. There were 5 of us and we ordered 14 appetizers. I have never been this full in my entire life. I’m not sure if I want to vomit, cry, or Eternal Sunshine this moment out of my life. Maternity yoga pants are the only thing that can contain the 10,000 new calories in my body.
This is a shameful post, but I’ve promised to share my most shameful moments with you all for your entertainment.
The best part about having a free range house bunny is when she hops up on the couch or my bed for pets and cuddles.
The worst part about having a free range house bunny is playing the game every morning “what did Alice eat last night?”
Alice is getting chubby again right after I got her slimmed down. She has no idea how to be a rabbit. She tried to eat some pizza crust the other night. She also stuck her head in a bag of goldfish a few days ago. Maybe if I ate like an adult person and not an 8 year old she’d have healthier options to steal.
Today I told two people to go fuck themselves and sincerely meant it.
That, much like the C word, is one I don’t use often. I keep it for occasions when I really really mean it. Today was a double “go fuck yourself” day. Woof.
It’s weird and amazing and stupid how hearing a song can make you feel 19 again. I started to update my phone tonight and iTunes wanted me to make room on my phone for the new operating system. I went through the music on my phone to make some cuts. Shuffle decided to shuffle me back to 2007. I started feeling sick, and scared, and alone, and I wanted to throw up.
I was a mess in 2007. I didn’t eat a full meal basically for the entire summer of 2007. I had never and have never since experienced such a low rock bottom level of depression as I felt that summer. It is seriously a wonder and an amazement to me that I survived that summer. I was chasing some sort of alcoholic savant whose only actual non academic talent was making me fall in love with him and fucking me over.
So I spent my late summer and early fall with him. We’d kiss and listen to Peter, Bjorn and John and make out. He’d come over and we’d watch the same freaking Pavement documentary every night. I’d make him spaghetti and later at his house he’d take a xanax and cut himself. I’d sit up all night with him trying to talk him into staying alive. Then he’d leave and talk to other girls while I rocked in my bed pulling at my hair. It was like this mentally unstable, privileged, middle class Sid and Nancy bullshit.
Bishop Allen’s “Charm School” just made me, a 26 year old woman trying her best, feel like the world was crumbling around me again. It’s not, I don’t actually feel like that anymore but damn.
You’re amazing, I love you, I want to marry you tomorrow.