The Return of Chicken Butt Boy

Are you fricken kidding me?  He texted me again this week?  Starting to think he’s more than immature – he’s a fucking idiot!

After telling him I wasn’t interested, then ignoring his last text, I thought that he’d finally gotten the message – I’m not interested.  But noooo, he sent me a text two days ago that said, Hello, Sexy.  I’m not flattered anymore.  I’m kind of ew-ed out.  As in, he called me sexy…ew.

I hate being blunt when it comes to turning someone down because I’ve been rejected in many a harsh ways, and I know that just because you aren’t attracted to someone it doesn’t mean you have to be cruel.  But I’m realizing that sometimes blunt is the only way it works and that blunt doesn’t have to be cruel.  So I replied, Please stop texting me, Chicken Butt Boy. I’m not interested.  (No, I didn’t call him Chicken Butt Boy, I called him by his real name).

I hope he gets that message loud and clear of I’m gonna go all Rhino Vag on his ass!

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Such a Failure

Oh my god, I am such a failure. 😦

I backed out of the other event tonight.  I’m not even sure why.  I could give you a great list of reasons: I’m still tired from yesterday; I took at nap at 6:30 and didn’t wake up til after 8 and it started at 8:15; by the time I got there after my nap it would have been close to 9:30; I didn’t feel like driving there in the rain;  I’m too old to go out that late (I’m 36, old, seriously???)…

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Singles Night, Part 2

So, how was Singles Night?

No fricken chicken idea.  I didn’t go.

Now, in all fairness, I didn’t not go because of my anxiety.  So yay for me! 🙂

I didn’t go because of my fatigue.  So boo for my MS.

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Singles Night

A while ago (almost 2 years ago), I joined a group on for singles in my area.  I’m not new here, but since I don’t work outside the house anymore, and I’m not in school anymore, and all my friends are married or in serious relationships or have kids, or some combination of that, I don’t have any way to meet new people.  And since my current friends are all busy with their new families-in-the-making, I don’t have any friends to go out and do things with anymore.

I do a lot of things with my Mom.

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Grocery Shopping with Cog Fog

Being on SSDI, I am poor.  Your SSDI is figured by how much you have paid into it over the years you worked.  I had my first job when I was 18, and worked part-time minimum wage jobs through college.  After college I worked in customer service for 2 years (low 20’s for salary).  Then I went to grad school where I worked part-time in a bookstore.  After grad school I got my first “real” job, which lasted a year before I moved into publishing.  Three years later I had to leave work and o on SSDI.  As you can imagine, I didn’t pay a whole lot into my SS before I had to start taking it back.  As a result, I live on less than what is considered the poverty level for a single person living in my state and city.  Thanks US Government, you rock!

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Two Things I Try and Remember When I’m Having a Rough Day

When my depression hits, I tell myself

f03e3fc58a97a6d409369e9714a32521 and try to ignore the sweet tortures she is whispering in my mind.

When my anxiety come clawing back, I try to remember

20b311c1331ee0cc6927060454e9f6cdand tell myself that whatever is going to happen will happen whether I worry about it or not, and stepping on cracks doesn’t really break my Mother’s back.


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Feeling Blah

I’m feeling kinda blah today.  A little sad, somewhat bored, and definitely lonely.  Tired, too.  And because its such a beautiful day (low 80’s, bright sun, no humidity), I feel guilty for feeling blah.  If it was a rainy, dark day, I wouldn’t feel bad about feeling bad.  But because it’s so nice out, I feel like I should be out doing something, or at the very least, in a good mood while I’m inside.  But the tap-tap-tapping of sadness is creeping up on me.

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Calm Me

This post from Mickologist  got me thinking about what calms me down when I feel anxious or what makes me feel better when the depression is clawing at the edges.  There’s the usual things, like deep breathing, going for a walk, eating cake, smoking weed, or having a lot to drink.  But then there are the more specialized things.

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I Swear I’m Only One Person

I was so proud and satisfied with myself after building my table this morning. Now I am shaky and weepy and anxious-y.  My mood swings are faster that a buttered kid going down an aluminum slide.  I thought PMS was supposed to come before your moon cycle, not during.  It’s like a Twilight Vampire Apocalypse attacked a middle school over here with all this blood and crazy.

I swear there’s only one person writing this blog.  At least, that I know of.  I don’t remember “going away” at any point in the day today so someone else could “come out and play”.

I don’t have multiple personalities.

I’m just crazy.


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I Ikea, Do You?

Spent the morning building my new kitchen/dinning table.  Ok, maybe not actually building it.  More like like trying to decipher the badly drawn images to figure out what screws into what hole (shut up) and then almost killing my cat Wolfie when I went to slide the heavy tabletop down from the wall it was propped up against onto the floor (she was sleeping underneath it, like it was a little wooden tent.  Adorable, but I almost ended up with a Wolfie Pancake, and everyone knows I don’t eat bread products anymore.).

Thanks for the help, Gumby.

Thanks for the help, Gumby.

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