I actually left work early today. Halle-fucken-luyah! Maybe…I told myself…just MAYBE my kids won’t eat Burger King, Mac-n-Cheese, or cold hotdogs and chocolate chip cookies for dinner!
A few minutes before I gathered my life back into my oversized bag, I sat at my desk listening to Rihanna complaining about collecting money from some bitch even though she’s like, filthy rich in “Bitch Better Have My Money” while updating one of my 76,978 excel logs and I was in a really positive mood. I was in one of my awkward hyper moods that provokes me to sing loudly and confidently and then to simultaneously laugh at myself in a loud psychotic tone because I’ve realized that I’m singing loudly and confidently… and I actually still had a few sips of caramel macchiato floating in the bottom of my venti just waiting to make my insides wiggle with wet joy (that sounded so erotic. Oh yes macchiato. YES!) ( OK that went way too far. My apologies)..
Anyhow darlin’…. so as I sat at my desk for those last few minutes I merrily contemplated arriving home with the sun still hovering above my cute little head and being as productive and efficient as possible. I am SO so good at envisioning my goals. I mean I see what needs to happen, and I see myself making it happen and I see it all play out in my head in detail. Play by play. Like one of those mega-slowwww motion play-backs of a really badass goal made by a football player. Wait..I meant like a soccer player making an unforgettable touchdown. You know. Whatever. Don’t judge me. Don’t be a cunt.
My intentions were as follows:
-Dishes from last night
-Cook a decent meal (not from a can)
-1 load of laundry
– Bake and freeze for this weekend’s. cake (at least the first tier)
-sweep and mop
-Read 1 chapter of “Furiously Happy” (if you are not or have not read this…go die).
-Blog about more stupid shit no one cares about in hopes of ever achieving more than 10 followers. But you know what, the numbers mean nothing. I keep telling myself that. And fuck you “Stats” section on WordPress. YOU DO NOT OWN ME.
– Shower if time permits bahahaha
-Catch up on Facebook (ew)
So now I’m convinced that I must be depressed. I keep Googling depression while watching Married at First Sight and both are quite frankly pissing me off. 1-because I know better than to Google any illnesses or disorders in attempt to self-diagnose because then I will never let it go and I feel stupid but so sure I have it ALL. And 2- because what kind of dickhead signs up to marry someone at first sight on national TV. That’s just desperate and reckless and I can’t stop watching now. So fuck.
And back to me… I was elated a few hours ago. I don’t know what the fuck happened to me as soon as I walked in to this house. It’s like there’s a vortex of lazy negativity at the door that sucks the life out of me and then leaves me to die on my couch with a blanket, a remote control, a loaf of warm French bread and Lucifer in my hands (this phone). What’s worse is, I don’t even have my kids. My mother in law took them until tomorrow and I have the whole house and the whole night to myself and Joey came in here and told me to get dressed so that we can go for dinner and a movie and I’m all “What? Dressed? Nah. I’m good. Bring me fast food.” And then I’m back to this retarded reality show and writing about how I’m probably depressed. I feel like doing NOTHING right now and I feel fat and ridiculous and old for it.
The one thing I can’t say I feel is suicidal. But I mean…isn’t this technically slow suicide? Refusing to get up to even pee. Or drink water. I wonder how long it would take for me to die here on this couch. Hold on maybe Google can answer that too.
I think I have to find the strength inside to shower at the very least. I’m pretty sure I stink.
Hopefully by my next post I’ll be out of this funk and these morons on my TV screen will realize that you can’t force love and that they have better chances of meeting someone nice at a Starbucks or a B&N or Publix.