March 03, 2002 :: 6:00 p.m.
sock puppets to the rescue
Went out with Amanda. Shopping therapy, you could say. I only had ten bucks with me, but I certainly made the most of my meager funds. A shirt that doesn't fit but which will make a wonderful purse, three pairs of socks, one pair of underwear, a tube of "hair gloss," and a container of deep conditioning hair gunk. Not bad, if I do say so myself. And I do.
You know... Adam called this afternoon and I was such a bitch to him. Such. A. Bitch. I don't think he had any idea how pissed I was at him, or why, but at that particular moment it didn't matter. If I could have bitten his head off through the phone I would have. After spending a bit of time out of my house, doing something other than dwelling on my irritation, I feel really stupid because I'm angry over nothing at all. Something stupid and petty that resulted from miscommunication.
mis�com�mu�ni�ca�tion n.
1. Lack of clear or adequate communication.
2. An unclear or inadequate communication.
This is the story of my life. Truly. So many of my problems would be solved it I could communicate at a lever higher than that of a jar of mayonnaise. But alas, I cannot. I don't know why. I mean... it just scares me, I guess. That doesn't make much sense, but I don't know how else to explain it.
Anyway. So now I feel really bad about being mean to Adam. And I should. I'm such a basket case; my emotions override my logic every time. I'm the queen of mood swings and it causes me more trouble than anything else. Argh. I called him a while ago, but his mother informed me that he's asleep. Hopefully he'll call me back, although I could understand if he didn't. If I were in his position I might not.
*sigh* Why do I always fuck good things up? Can I never leave well enough alone? Do I have a self-sabotage problem? Seriously. It's no good.
And I shall spend the rest of my days alone, talking to sock puppets, because I was a big, fat bitch to one of the best guys on the planet.
Blah.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005