Tequila

Since I've had a horrible day, and since what I have learned over the past year is that alcohol is an acceptable coping mechanism, I've been drinking margaritas. To put this into context, the previous sentence took me four tries.

Anywhoodles, in addition to feeding my south-of-the-border depression, I've also spent the night casting doubt upon:
a. my decision to go back to school
b. my ability to ever be truly happy in a situation that doesn't meet my every expectation/demand
c. the chance that the world will ever meet my expectations and demands and,
d. my ability to have a healthy relationship.

This last one is the most bothersome to me currently because, even as I stand to spend $40,000.00 on a less than viable career/future, it is also almost 10pm on a Saturday and I am STILL waiting to hear from the fucker I've gotten myself all worked up around. There are more issues here than I care to enumerate or explain, but let's chalk it all up to daddy issues and a severe lack of self-confidence, and let our imaginations run wild. Have you pictured the pathetic person that the above issues connote? Now add booze, heat and desperation and you have an adequate picture of my current state.

Also, I can hear my roommate talking to her real boyfriend, with whom she is bored, and I don't feel any better about my romantic limbo.

I'm almost ready to leave, just to kaput the whole boy thing. I'm losing respect for myself that I didn't even know I had left. I AM that crazy bitch.

I should probably not tequila and blog. Will take this into consideration.