i hate my life
dramatic? a little bit.
but i have good reason...
[repeat]
i hate my life
[repeat]
i hate my life
[repeat]
i hate my life today, tomorrow, wednesday and thursday.
i should start enjoying life again by friday or on jan. 1st
i hate my life
Showing posts with label depressed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depressed. Show all posts
Monday, December 18, 2006
Monday, December 04, 2006
post sunday blues
It's 12:55pm and I've done nothing today. I've sat at my computer acting as a slave to my inbox. I have refreshed my mailbox about 15 times within the last 20 minutes (both work and personal accounts). I'm drained.
I had a chat last night that upset me a bit. It made me realize how so many of my decisions are not my decisions. I'm at the mercy of devices, mandates, and/or other individuals. They make decisions and set the rules, while I painfully oblige and blindfully accept them as my own. In the end, I question my ability to make choices, I question my ability to function as an adult, I question if I'm really the independent and socially capable individual that I believe myself to be. I'm sure I go through this questioning only out of paranoia, but I really feel like I'm not as in control as I would like. I'm losing my drive and my ambition.
In the past year, I've noticed a pattern in my behavior. I approach so many things with gusto, high hopes, high expectations, and genuine delight. However, as time goes on I lose the excitement. Is this something that comes with age? Do things progressively become more and more dull? I hope not, because that makes me want a pharmie.
I'm suffering from a total case of the Monday's.
I had a chat last night that upset me a bit. It made me realize how so many of my decisions are not my decisions. I'm at the mercy of devices, mandates, and/or other individuals. They make decisions and set the rules, while I painfully oblige and blindfully accept them as my own. In the end, I question my ability to make choices, I question my ability to function as an adult, I question if I'm really the independent and socially capable individual that I believe myself to be. I'm sure I go through this questioning only out of paranoia, but I really feel like I'm not as in control as I would like. I'm losing my drive and my ambition.
In the past year, I've noticed a pattern in my behavior. I approach so many things with gusto, high hopes, high expectations, and genuine delight. However, as time goes on I lose the excitement. Is this something that comes with age? Do things progressively become more and more dull? I hope not, because that makes me want a pharmie.
I'm suffering from a total case of the Monday's.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
a little discouragement goes a long way
The first year was hard. Actually those first few months of single life were daunting. The only thing enjoyable was getting down to a zero---ahh "breakuprexia!" After a few months of it (about six to be exact), I settled in nicely and began appreciating the new me.
The second year of single girlhood was wild, adventurous, sexy, even envious. I had my pick of guys. I exuded with confidence, while maintaining that girlish charm that males love so much. With no real commitments I relished in this devious behavior. It was refreshing and down right liberating after spending my days and nights with soy ice cream, my vegan buddy, and reruns of Everybody Love Raymond.
I've just passed the three year mark of single life. I know the exact date, but I'd feel foolish revealing it...eventhough I just told you that I know it. So now, at the ripe and ready age of 23, I'm ready to delve into the world of exclusivity. But sadly dating now seems to be much more difficult than it was 4 years ago. I have standards now and won't settle for any piece of shit off the street. I'm not into chubby guys (sick), guys who love Vegas (I'd rather go home and kill myself), mama's boys (not my style), anyone over 32(done that), vegetarians (not into relationships sans Ruth's Chris), divorcees (fug baggage), guys who just want to hook-up or play date (so over it), people from high school (losers), people from college (educated losers), guys with kids and/or wives (ugh done that one too) anyone who thinks not wearing sneakers is dressing up (lame and immature), someone who considers $35 too much money for a meal (cheap ass), men who hate gays (if you don't love my "gays" then you can't love me) and the list goes on. I don't think that's picky. I just know what I want and I'm vocal about it.
I'm discouraged this week. Let's cross our fingers that something good happens. Because I'm starting to believe that my ex did voo doo on me and didn't tell me. As usual, I'm starting to discredit my own abilities in selecting men...Do you think it's me or them?
The second year of single girlhood was wild, adventurous, sexy, even envious. I had my pick of guys. I exuded with confidence, while maintaining that girlish charm that males love so much. With no real commitments I relished in this devious behavior. It was refreshing and down right liberating after spending my days and nights with soy ice cream, my vegan buddy, and reruns of Everybody Love Raymond.
I've just passed the three year mark of single life. I know the exact date, but I'd feel foolish revealing it...eventhough I just told you that I know it. So now, at the ripe and ready age of 23, I'm ready to delve into the world of exclusivity. But sadly dating now seems to be much more difficult than it was 4 years ago. I have standards now and won't settle for any piece of shit off the street. I'm not into chubby guys (sick), guys who love Vegas (I'd rather go home and kill myself), mama's boys (not my style), anyone over 32(done that), vegetarians (not into relationships sans Ruth's Chris), divorcees (fug baggage), guys who just want to hook-up or play date (so over it), people from high school (losers), people from college (educated losers), guys with kids and/or wives (ugh done that one too) anyone who thinks not wearing sneakers is dressing up (lame and immature), someone who considers $35 too much money for a meal (cheap ass), men who hate gays (if you don't love my "gays" then you can't love me) and the list goes on. I don't think that's picky. I just know what I want and I'm vocal about it.
I'm discouraged this week. Let's cross our fingers that something good happens. Because I'm starting to believe that my ex did voo doo on me and didn't tell me. As usual, I'm starting to discredit my own abilities in selecting men...Do you think it's me or them?
Monday, July 17, 2006
bringing sexy back....
in the form of dessert.
So in the past month or so, I realized why my love life isn't flourishing--I don't care enough about it. I'm busy right now learning French, mastering my tennis game, liking my work, drinking Campari, wearing skinny jeans, and figuring out how life will materalize once Amanda is gone (sniff sniff). I'm only interested in giving hot guys my number, prentending they'll call, and then being completely over it 2 hours later. Also, I've realized that if a girl really wants to bring sexy back, she's needs to find her solace in the spoonful.
Now, I'm not condoning over eating or over indulging, that is so 2001 (when metabolisms were slower and lipo/personal trainers were cheaper). But what am in condoning is falling in love with your dessert. Here are a few reasons why creme brulee, chocolate mousse, & even jello pudding will bring your sexy back much better and quicker than a shirtless, hairy-chest guy ever could:
1. dessert doesn't judge
2. dessert is loyal, faithful, honest, and true
3. dessert listens
4. dessert will love you when no one else does
So with dessert in moderation, a drawer full of lacy panties, Johnny Depp movies, and a box of q-tips (Amanda and I have decided there is a sex organ in the ear) you'll get your sexy back so quick you won't be able to find your sexy front (translation fake sexy).
*eww that was so bad that I'm cringing
**inspiration from this blog hails from Amanda's genuis during an gmail chat conversation. The list of reasons why dessert is better than a man come from her.
So in the past month or so, I realized why my love life isn't flourishing--I don't care enough about it. I'm busy right now learning French, mastering my tennis game, liking my work, drinking Campari, wearing skinny jeans, and figuring out how life will materalize once Amanda is gone (sniff sniff). I'm only interested in giving hot guys my number, prentending they'll call, and then being completely over it 2 hours later. Also, I've realized that if a girl really wants to bring sexy back, she's needs to find her solace in the spoonful.
Now, I'm not condoning over eating or over indulging, that is so 2001 (when metabolisms were slower and lipo/personal trainers were cheaper). But what am in condoning is falling in love with your dessert. Here are a few reasons why creme brulee, chocolate mousse, & even jello pudding will bring your sexy back much better and quicker than a shirtless, hairy-chest guy ever could:
1. dessert doesn't judge
2. dessert is loyal, faithful, honest, and true
3. dessert listens
4. dessert will love you when no one else does
So with dessert in moderation, a drawer full of lacy panties, Johnny Depp movies, and a box of q-tips (Amanda and I have decided there is a sex organ in the ear) you'll get your sexy back so quick you won't be able to find your sexy front (translation fake sexy).
*eww that was so bad that I'm cringing
**inspiration from this blog hails from Amanda's genuis during an gmail chat conversation. The list of reasons why dessert is better than a man come from her.
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