AARRGGHH

OK, here comes another rant...

Living is frustrating.

Just living...not deciding what shirt to wear with what pair of pants, not should I wear my hair up or down, just the concept of should I get out of bed or not? Should I see what happens when I mix NyQuil, bourbon and Paxil?

And what's more frustrating is when you are in treatment for mental illness in the first place, and your friends know this, when you rant without having a plan to actually do oneself in, they think you wanna do yourself in ANYWAY! There's a difference. What that is yet, exactly, I have no idea, but there is one, I'm sure of it. (spoken like a true pioneer, no?)

And actually, I hate NyQuil in the first place, so any kind of plan involving that is out of the question.

But back to my topic.

Living...ayiyi...sometimes it seems over-rated, you know? I mean, so many people "live" for that perfect house, that perfect person, that perfect job, the perfect, eugenics experiment Stepford child, and then when they get what they want (or they THINK they get what they want) and see how much they missed in the meantime, then they feel depressed because they let everything else slide. It happened to me, and I'm sure I'm not alone. But now, all I want is one hassle-free day...

One day where I get up, I'm NOT late to work, my employment is stable, I have insurance to meet my health needs, I like my supervisor and co-workers, I can pay all pertinent bills, and I can go home, pet my cat, eat chocolate ice cream for dinner, and screw my man until my brain falls out of my head. Is that so much to ask? Apparently so.

Maybe I can just start eating chocolate ice cream for dinner.

Yours till the sugar and lactose shock wears off,
Sudiegirl