03.20.03 Two days ago I sat down at my desk in my darkened bedroom and begin to type an entry here. You know the one - where I lie and say that everything worked out & I got drunk & BF didn�t pick up his dirty undies & bladey-blah-blah... You know the one - where it�s funny that my life sucks so fucking much but it all works out in the end. Well guess what? It just fucking doesn�t. This is the one where I actually did get fucking drunk as a bastard and NOTHING worked out like it was supposed to & dad is back on the fourth floor & BF is broke & drunk & my house stinks� And the worst part is that you know. That is the worst part to me is that people know what I am going to say next because it is so goddamn like me to say it. So that night, amidst the circumstances of my dad and the rainy ness of the evening - I came here on diaryland with the intention of shutting this diary down. And I am not saying that I still am sure I shouldn�t� It�s just� I had this dream where someone found it here. And as fucked up as it is, I never want this week to end - in all its slacking glory. I took off yesterday at about noon because, HELL, I had been at work for 2 WHOLE HOURS! The drive home was drizzly and unusually chilly and I felt just like pulling over onto the fucking sidewalk and crying... it�s all too much. Instead, I focused on the drive... Once I was safely in my underwear and under the influence, I laid my ass on the sofa & smoked until the room was hazy and then... and then� when bf came home, I slid my panties around one ankle and straddled him on the sofa, never opening my eyes� just listening to the news the whole time and wishing that I could turn everything off. And he stopped me halfway through by asked me why - or was it what � I don�t remember. And I just climbed off and rolled over, hugging the pillow� �Nothing�� drifting off into a dream. |
|