Im writing todays post from the little refugee camp I've built for myself on my boyfriends bed. Using a shitty lap top, while my brand new computer sits at home untouched. Staring at pictures of his family and his clothes and his life, as my living room goes unlived in. Untouched. My life, seemingly frozen in time. Drinking Miller Lite, and eating a Veggie Burger. To watch my weight of course, which is escalating at dangerous levels. Like an obese woman ordering a Big Mac with a Diet Coke. I play these little mind games with myself. I used to get so much confidence from my work. Negotiating deals. Traveling. Meetings. Even when I had a bad day, and I would bitch, and go home and drink wine and lay on my couch, I still felt proud. Now I just lay on the couch and drink wine. The pride I get now comes from cooking a good dinner. Having good sex. Keeping a clean house. Spending hours and hours, doing my hair, make-up, buying new clothes. Just so I can trick myself into believing I'...
You didn't think death would stop me from talking your ear off did you?