Ignore the mess…

Yes, I’m still trying to figure out CSS and how to make my blog look the way I want it to. The need to write doesn’t wait for my learning curve to catch up, though. Maybe, just maybe, this blog will be so epic that you won’t even notice how messed up my site looks…

I couldn’t even type that with a straight face.

Anyway. It’s been one of those days. You know the ones I’m talking about. The ones where no matter how hard you try to be happy and upbeat, you still just hate everything for no apparent reason.

Maybe it’s PMS. Maybe it’s having to go out in this town. Maybe it’s everything that’s happened in the last two weeks catching up to me.

Or maybe, just maybe, people (including myself) really do suck as much as I think they do.

I want to punch everyone who’s whining about stupidity. I want to judge people who get angry over other people’s happiness when I have my own jealousy issues working against me. I want attention, but I don’t want to actually talk to people. I want someone to call and say hey, let’s go out for coffee this weekend and then I remember that I don’t know anyone down here.

I want to have something to show for all this time spent doing absolutely nothing. Like, say, a book. But noooo, my muse works on his schedule, not mine. I want hundreds (or maybe even thousands) of people to read my blogs. I want to feel like what I have to say matters.

I want to know who the hell my husband is texting all the time. I saw his phone on the counter the other night, and there was a new message from a female. Before you start telling me to stop being a psycho bitch, keep in mind that I know most of his friends. That I asked him about this same girl when I saw her number in our old phone a few months ago, and he got defensive when I asked who she was. And told me nothing about her other than that she’s married with 3 kids.

I don’t want to be one of those girls who sneaks around in his messages. I don’t want to have to be one of those girls. But I also don’t want to feel like he’s hiding something from me. And that’s exactly how I feel.

I told him about my text conversations with an old (male) friend. I thought that maybe, if I got the ball rolling, he’d tell me about who he’s texting. But he hasn’t. So I’m left wondering… why not?

Sigh.

I really hate everything today. I don’t want to.

But hell. I can’t figure out CSS, I can’t write well to save my life, I’m doing absolutely nothing since I lost my job, and this whole weight loss thing is going so.fucking.slow.

It’s not you, it’s me. Really. I’ll just crawl back into the corner and try to be happier tomorrow.

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