I'm just minding my business, stopping at CVS for some white zinfandel & to use the ATM & what do I find? My grandmama's back door, that's what! Some genius decided they needed access to the ATM "allatahm" & decided to take it right on home with them, right through the sliding glass doors. This that bullshit right here...
Also, it's fucking HI-larious.
As I look back on it, last night was quite eventful... Before the dreaded phone call from The Ex, I decided to throw red wine at the wall. Let me give you some context. Generally speaking, my wine comes in a box. What??? I drink economically & it's good! Stop judging me! Anyway, I like to drink my wine in bed & then go immediately to sleep, but I'm a jackass & I tend to fall asleep holding my still-full glass of wine in my hand. After much wasted wine & a few near drownings, it occurred to me that I should pour my wine into the little individual sized bottles that you can get when you buy a 4 pack from the gas station (I'm such a fucking lady! ), this way I'd have a top on the bottle which would prevent the spillage. It works MOST of the time. Well, last night I had a hot $5 in my pocket so I decided to get fancy & I headed over to Trader Joe's for some of that good 'ol $3 Buck Chuck. The only problem Chuck & I have is that he comes in a full size bottle. I don't have a funnel around here, so last night I decided I would pour my wine into my empty Wendy's cup. It's not as secure as my miniature bottle, but it's better than nothing, right? WRONG. I thought I was just reaching, in a very genteel way, for the cup. Apparently, my brain & my arm were having communication issues & the genteel message was translated to "swing for the fences! ". It went downwall from there. My precious Shiraz! I tried to clean it up, but there's only so much I could do at 2 am. Fix it, Jesus...
It looks like a goddamn crime scene in my bedroom.
#Shenanigans
So, The Ex called in the middle of the night last night to tell me that he "wants to come home". What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? I mean, really! I love this man, I do. And he loves me the best way he knows how, which is the goddamn problem. The way he knows how to love is detrimental to my SpiritMan. I deserve better than that, and I will have better or I will have nothing at all. End of the goddamn story.
I've decided I want the guy who comes to pick up my express envelopes every day at work, we'll call him Mr. UpEx. He comes in, we flirt & talk shit to each other (this dance is referred to as "desk sex" by the bestie), and he leaves. And I'm left wishing I had launched myself at his FACE when I had the chance! But I don't want him to be my boo thang, or my man, or anything else. I just need him for a few minutes, just long enough to wrap those tattooed arms around my waist & make me say "hey, daddy"... Then he can go on about his business. But I bet he has a wife, a girlfriend, 2 hos, & a chic on the side already & even though I don't want anything serious I damn sure can't have my MVA (Most Valuable Asset) just all out & about like that. It's going to require some investigation on my part to find out, and herein lies the problem...I have always had a strict rule about approaching men. I DON'T DO IT. I always felt like the kinda man I want is the kind who can tell me that he wants me, not the other way around. But shit is different than it used to be outchea in these single life streets, & apparently dudes are the new chics. I am saddened by this, but when in Rome, right? Right? Yeah, right. The problem is that I'm an odd mix of self-confident & shy, which means I know exactly what I'm working with but there are not enough dollars in the Federal Reserve to get me to approach a guy & tell him why he should find this out for himself. What's a newly single girl to do? Do I have anything to lose by asking the man if he's unattached & interested?
I'm already sick of this shit. Where is my goddamn wine???
