This weekend has been incredibly hard to focus on anything other than the noise. I envy those whose thoughts resemble soda water, boring and lack luster. Why is everything so f*cking loud? Generally you can tell the state of my mind from the state of my fingers and they are currently a bloody disaster. I just want to crawl into a pit full of blankets, kittens and lesbian rom-com books and just stay there a while. Dream vacation folks and its f*cking free.
Along with this feeling of wanting to hide forever in a pit of despair is a glimmer of happiness because I met Quinn’s family, but then also more despair. Her dad is a big cuddly bear and he makes me feel safe. I can see myself being a part of her family. They are loud, sarcastic but so kind. Oh and her uncle has a posy of ducks. I have my suspicions he may even be part bird himself. They’re my kind of people and I love them.
I’m finding myself losing motivation as of last week, I hope it only has to do with the vast amount of wine I’ve consumed and not real emotions. Gross. I need to set some goals for this week like stop wearing bathing suit bottoms as underwear and a buy a hair brush, a fork is not a solution despite what that bimbo mermaid thinks. I’m sure none of this will happen but writing down your goals gets you one step closer…….closer to giving up on undergarments all together.
Since I started working from home I’ve noticed that when I do go outside I hate it a lot more than I did before. Have people gotten worse or am I just becoming an old cranky wh*re? Let’s go with both. Yesterday, on my daily walk to the liquor store, I walked by a man sprawled out on the street wearing some sort of onesie pajama contraption and cuddling a box of red wine. The man was me , I already own the onesie and I was on my way to buy a box of wine. Great.