I don't want pasta. My stomach feels bloated and overstuffed. But the pot keeps boiling, I keep stirring and then I sit back down.
A desperate attempt to feel loved may have been a poor move. Not a bad move but, it doesn't seem like it will produce good lasting results. A quick fix...and then what? Go back to feeling sad that he isn't here anymore.
Fuck you if you think I'm too sad. These words are just for me. Hit the X and don't come back. Forget. Forget.
Because every non/functioning alcoholic needs a little hipness in his/her life.
Also, I haven't watched TV all weekend (including Friday). Go me. What else to report...umm...this weekend has been really good. It's all about keeping busy. Although I have run out of things to do now...I could join the party that's going on nearby. The music is loud but really nice. I'm almost done reading my book called The Wrong Madonna - it's really good, a little slow but it's getting me to contemplate bits of my life and all that.
OK so make a plan. Phone someone. Stop sitting there and while you’re at it put on some clothes. Wipe that tear from your cheek. And smile - a really big one. Show teeth and everything.
At least stop playing sad music. Open the window or maybe just the blinds. All right you can go back to the TV but this time put on an uplifting movie - that one that always makes you laugh.
Yeah I guess it is getting kind of late. Actually most people haven't even started dinner yet. Yeah I guess getting some extra hours of sleep would do you good. Goodnight.