Last night I did nothing, and it felt pretty good. Tonight I did nothing, and it felt pretty lousy. Darn it. I thought maybe this park-it-on-the-couch-with-potato-chips thing was going to be the answer, but I guess not.

I'm not having a sad night... I'm having an irritated one. I'm irritated with myself for being in a funk and not getting myself out of it. I'm irritated that I can't just buck up and deal with the crap in my life instead of being sorry for myself and ignoring the problem. Truth is I'm tired of feeling crappy. What is the answer?

I guess it's time to start being honest with myself and stop pretending like he (and she) never existed. I guess this isn't a healthy way to deal with it, because I'm starting to hate myself a little more every day. I'm a mess and it's time to pull it together.

Tomorrow's my birthday, so I guess it's a good day to decide to have a new start. Right? This was a rough birthday-to-birthday year for me. It saw not one, not two, but three breakups. Two with Rob, one with Mr. Never-Existed... it's been exhausting. Maybe when Mom told me this would be my year, she meant my birthday-to-birthday year. Year 28. Maybe my good stuff starts tomorrow.

Labels: misery