a day in the life of a love junkie

Not too terribly long ago, someone informed me that I was "very self-deceptive" (spelled incorrectly by the person informing me of this, of course). I had been talking to this dude for a few days and he was already telling me he hoped we turned out married, he was going to move from Michigan to NC, it brightened his day to know I was going to let him be a part of my life, etc. He also had previously informed me that he was going to be 30 soon, lived in his uncles basement, was training for mma fighting and is going bald which is why he shaves his head. Oh, and lest I forget the child support payments he informed me of. Anyway, I knew I was dead wrong talkin' to this dude, and in all reality I didn't care a whole hell of a lot for him so I sabotaged the shit out of the whole thing and he ended out randomly blocking me on facebook like a bitch, and when I asked him about it he told me I was "self-deceptive" and said goodbye. The self-deception is in reference to my method of sabotage. I told him I didn't wanna fuck with him anymore b/c I knew he was talking to other bitches and other stuff of that nature and he got upset b/c he thought we were "meant to be together" after 2 days, and he didn't know how to prove he was "real". I truly don't know if he threw these lines at any bitch that would listen or if he was just crazy and really believed that I was the one for him, but at the end of the day, we only got along via text message (although he couldn't spell...that shit irked me). Talking on the phone was bad. I don't know if he intended to be belittling, but he was. He somehow found himself under the impression that he was a REALLY awesome guy to be with. And for some reason, he kinda gave me the creeps...I didn't feel 100% safe about this guy. I felt like he would be the one to beat the shit out of a bitch who runs her mouth too much when she gets mad (aka: me). The whole situation was just....not a good look. Anyway, by now you're wondering where I'm going with all this....despite the fact that, in hindsight, this dude is an arrogant choochbox and is probably more off-kilter than I realize....I got upset after we stopped talking. Like....REALLY down. Which reminded me of other times something like this happened and how ungodly depressed I became.

Attention is my drug. It's a legit addiction. I know that sounds crazy as fuck but it's real. I'll reiterate: this dude was a choooooochbox. But he knew what to say, and he knew enough to blow my phone all the way up. One time I got off work and had 8 lengthy texts from him. He always texted me first (mainly b/c I refused to text him first). And whether or not it's lies, it is still amazing to hear some random dude tell you he hopes y'all end out married. It's like shooting heroin. You get high. You feel alive. And when it goes away...you detox. And it is painful. You KNOW you're fuckin up messin' with these dudes, and you try to stop. And as soon as you wake up without a text message or sit through your lunch break staring at your chicken mac & cheese instead of being told you're beautiful, you are tempted to apologize for whatever you did to make things go "back to normal". And sometimes they won't forgive you. Or other times you don't even try to stop on your own...your shit just gets so out of control and you want so much from this person (who more often than not has been talking to you for less than a week and most assuredly does NOT love you) that you scare them away, and you've fucked yourself out of a fix.

Now some addicts only want a certain drug....others will do whatever they can get their grubby little hands on. I am the former....which, on one hand is a good thing, on the other hand is a bad thing. It's good b/c being picky about the dudes I speak to keeps me out of trouble. If I didn't give a fuck, I'd have a dude AND someone on the side at all times. The reason it's a bad thing is b/c when I'm "detoxing", I just have to ride it out. Anyway, these dudes must meet some requirements. I must be slightly physically attracted to them. For the most part, the dude I've been speaking of didn't really hold my attention. Bald, skinny, kinda goofy, shitty tattoos. Then he posted a picture of himself with a hat and glasses on and it was a wrap (it's amazing what glasses can do....geek factor, yes please). I must also be able to hold conversation with them. If I can't relate or find some kind of common ground, it's a no go. If they can't hold my attention, why do I care if they love me?

The shitty part about this whole thing is that I HAD someone that loved me. Someone that my addiction had hurt multiple times. I don't know why I do this. I don't know why I crave the attention, love and acceptance of other men. I want to see if I can make other people love me. Maybe it makes me feel a sense of worth. Maybe it's b/c no one ever really gave too much of a fuck about me. I don't really know. Maybe it doesn't even seem like a legit addiction to you, oh dear reader. But to me, it's the high I find myself chasing, and the high that fucks me in the end.

Oxygen? HA! Overrated.

So Rob came by last week w/ some kinda respiratory infection. I wanted to be proactive and get some antibiotics bc if I get respiratory shit, my asthma goes haywire and I land in the hospital. I got my antibiotics, nommed em down and got sick anyfuckinway. It was all good til I inevitably got to the point of having to use my rescue inhaler every hour to be able to do anything other than breathe like I was sucking an elephant through a straw. A neon green squiggly straw. Anywho, I tote myself to the ER at around 10:30pm. I get there, and am waiting to be triaged. Whilst I wait, I observe (b/c if I don't do something to get my mind off lack of oxygen, I'll prolly go into a panic attack. Ya know, that whole adding insult to injury thing). There's this old Jewish (I'm sure of it) northern couple....probably from New York....and I swear they WERE the stereotypical senior citizen couple from up top. The dude shuffles to the triage door and begins to knock, meanwhile his wife is sitting there with her hand on her head saying "whadaya DO-EEENG?!"..."I wanna know what's going on!" he says. The little triage nurse opens the door, and is then baraged with a line of questions around why he hasn't been seen yet, his mouth is bleeding and he's swallowing it and blood is going into his stomach, where are the Dr.'s ("Doctiz", is what he said), blah blah blah. I laughed....just a little, due to no air flow. Meanwhile, they proceed to take me back to triage and give me a breathing treatment on the spot. I'm pretty sure that while I was getting my breathing treatment I heard more knocking coming from the triage waiting area. I KNOW I wouldn't have opened that door. lol. So nothing else really to report around my ER visit. Today I took my silly ass BACK to the Dr. and he gave me all kinds of fancy-pants prescriptions. Prednisone (YAY!), more antibiotics, and a prescription for my very own NEBULIZER!!! So, in theory, ER visits will be a thing of the past! I had to go to a place called MEDICAP to get THAT joker. I felt like I had finally achieved REAL grandma status when I went there! All kinds of creepy pill bottles and canes w/ butterflies on them and $40 medical panty hose....yeesh. So between the copay of 2 Dr's visits ($25 a piece), 1 ER visit ($100), my nebulizer ($58....insurance does NOT cover the purchase of a nebulizer, btw. TOM FOOLERY!), and my sachel of drugs from Walmart ($29)...I can no longer purchase my fuzzy Northface coat, and it's all the fault of Rob. DAHHHHH!!!! Next on the agenda: tooth yankage tomorrow @ 3. What the fuck, man. Dr. visit, ER visit, another Dr. visit, sachel of drugs, and now tooth-pullage. Is this what gettin' old is all about? If so, I think I'll follow the advice once given to me by a fat, bald, chester-the-molester lookin motherfucker....next time I WILL down the whole bottle of painkillers and call it a damn day. This gettin' old shit is for the BIRDS....and not any kinda bird I like, either.

Tis the season to be shiesty

So I get it. One can never have enough $, especially during this "joyous" season of "giving". We all wanna make sure our kids, spouses, family and friends have enough goodies from jolly ol' St. Nick and whatnot. HOWEVER! Shoplifting rings aren't the way to get this money! [although I highly doubt these people are doing what they're doing to earn money to buy their kids some Monster High dolls, or an Xbox 360] I work in a special kinda area where shoplifting and Tom Foolery is basically common practice. During the regular year, people steal b/c they want the product. During the Christmas season, people get up to some fuckery in order to get cash. Unfortunately for them, we don't give cash for product w/o receipt (aka: STOLEN SHIT). So they've devised ways to syphen cash out of us without any actual dollar bills leaving our register. I don't really wanna get into what they're doing, aka: my conspiracy theories, but it's a pretty luctrative business and it pisses me ALL the way off. We've lost the better half of $700 in one week. And obviously that counts against us and our payroll. So basically, losing that money cost us 3.5 hrs of payroll. Do you know what that is? That's me, having to cut a full shift from one of my associates who wants to make money they HONEST way. I really wanna come across the counter, grab these people and shake them while informing them that their lifestyle is hurting people who want to make a legit living. I mean, let's think about it from a part-timers perspective. You get maybe 2-3 three hour shifts a week. We get hit, and I have to cut one of your shifts, leaving you at 1-2 three hour shifts. Then our dear friend Uncle Sam comandeers the taxes out of your paycheck, portions of which will go to welfare, food stamps, and low income housing, which these thieving bitches undoubtedly take advantage of. So my part-timers are paying these peoples way, not once but twice. It's unreal, and completely shameful. It has affected ME to the point that I'm DREAMING about this shit! This moring, I dreamed that I was in the store by myself and all of them came with welfare checks to cash! I am officially going crazy. I'm over it b/c not only is this bullshit hurting my part timers, how in the fuck am I supposed to bonus? We all bust our asses to make money and then we randomly are set back $300, which is NOT easy to make back up. All I can do, and have been doing, is praying for these bitches. Even though they piss me all the way off, I know there's nothing I can do, and being angry isn't going to change their behaviors. WHEW! OK. I feel a tiny bit better getting that off my chest. Stay tuned, there will undoubtedly be a rant about dentists, as I am headed there in the next 5 minutes.

Shopping Debacle Version Target.0

So normally, when I need to make a purchase of some sort, and also wish to avoid Tom Foolery, I go to Target. In fact, I delight in going to Target. They have all kinds of cool shit, the lines are reasonable, the cashiers are friendly and none of the clientele or employees hit on me. Winwinwin. So I know I need cat food and stuff, so I make my way to Target. "YAY!" I think to myself. HA! Lies and falsehoods. So I get a shopping basket and proceed to fill it with copious amounts of cat food, me food, tissues and mascara. I decide to pick up the cat litter right before I check out b/c it will be heavy as fuck and I didn't wanna hafta tote it for long. So I meander around the store a bit, hoping that the gears in my brain would get to churning and I could get ideas for Christmas gifts for Rob. I went to the electronics section, which is where I inevitably determined that Christmas is cancelled this year. Fuck this, I already bought him every video game system his little heart could desire, the only game I knew he really wanted (Skyrim) is already in his possession. I think for the first time ever, I legit have NO clue what to get him, but I have plenty of ideas regarding what I want. And don't anyone suggest that we just buy our own Christmas gifts! Buying our own gifts ruins the element of surprise, thus ruining my sense of accomplishment in buying something awesome, thus ruining my LIFE. Ugh. But anyway. I'm now depressed as fuck and decide that my shopping excursion is done. I go to get the litter. Please keep in mind that my shopping basket contains 30 cans of cat food, and other miscellaneous items. The cat litter is 31lbs. I am like....112lbs. This was a no go. So I wobble around the store in search of a cart, all the while hoping my arms don't rip off. I find one, only to realize that I am also too short and not-strong to lift this fucking 31lb thing of cat litter into the cart. I KNOW I looked like a dummy trying to hoist this joker into my cart without the cart rolling away and also without me getting severely fucked up somehow. But had anyone offered to help me, I probably would have started to shed tears of embarrassment and just run away. So I finally get all my shit into the cart and get in line. Oh joy....the asian cashier. Let me give you some history. The first time I encountered him, the man in front of me was treating the kid like DOG SHIT. I was like "damn, poor guy." Some people just don't like foreigners. It's my turn in line, and I am determined to be nice to the guy so he doesn't feel bad. FAILSAUCE. This.....joker.....aghhhhh! He bagged the shit all crazy, and when I say crazy, I mean he tried to cram everything into 2 bags. No go. He also gave me the spiel on the Target card, in SEVERELY broken (see: obliterated) english. I politely declined, grabbed my 2 screaming-full bags and kept it moving. TODAY.....he attempts to cram 3 boxes of mac & cheese bites, 2 boxes of tissues, one mascara, one pack of cat toys, one thing of oreos and 30 FUCKING CANS OF CAT FOOD into 2 bags. NO! STOP! I take the bags from him and open a new bag. Because I AM  an expert, 30 cans of cat food cannot coexist with other shit! Fuck. He says "Target card, save 5%". No I'm good. He rings everything up, stops and says something indecipherable. And stares at me. Like I'm supposed to reply. "What?" He repeats himself. Nope....I got nothin. "Yeaaaaaaaummmmmmmidunno.....there should be 30 cans of cat food total." SWIPE! lol. I had NO CLUE what he said. At all. And that's a problem. There's a lady at Target who is hard of hearing. She talks a little funny, but I can comprehend her and she's nice and doesn't bag my shit all crazy. There's a little indian man who is also a little hard to understand but he's very nice and ALSO does not bag my shit all crazy. This kid barely speaks english and I do not speak crazy-nese, so we are at an impass. I drive my little cart out of the store and go the fuck home. Sorry to say that my shopping experience at Target effectively cured my writers block. UGHHHH.

Exhaustion

I am HOOOOOME. And SO f'n tired. I embarked on my 1st journey to Winston Salem at 11:00pm wednesday night. Everything was fine up til the very end when I somehow made a wrong turn off an exit and got SOOOO crazy lost. Or so I thought. By the straight grace of God, I was on a street Rob knew and he helped me get home. But not before I found a gas station and asked the attendant what street I was on. LOL. But I found my way. Rob and I hung out and tried to go to bed around 3:30am.....I didn't end out falling asleep til 6:30am. WHYYYY, you ask? 1.) b/c I need noise to sleep. and not just ANY noise. Non-distracting noise. So a tv or radio will NOT work. I usually sleep with a fan and humidifier on. And needless to say, Rob had no fan or humidifier. We tried to turn on the bathroom fan but it somehow was making these noises that sounded like a thumping bass in a car stereo. It was weird. And distracting. lol. 2.) Rob was snoring. Another distracting noise. 3.) I left my stuffed rabbit at home. I am going to be 26 in 2 days...and I still sleep with a stuffed rabbit my nana made me when I was probably 2 or 3. I didn't realize I couldn't sleep without him....but apparently I can't. So yea, I fell asleep at 6:30am, we woke up at noon and headed out to walmart b/c we're dummies who can NEVER remember to get everything we need BEFORE Thanksgiving. Ugh. We got home and got our cook/clean/football watch on (even though all the games sucked and watching Nickelback perform pissed me ALL the way off). After dinner, we watched a sea turtle documentary which contained turtle porn. Then I think Rob went and played Skyrim while I popped some pain pills and tried to sleep. We woke up this morning, I got ready, drove to Rob's mall to give him his house key (and DIDN'T GET LOST! YES!) and drove home. And got to work an hour early. lol. Ah well, better early than late. I had a good day with Rob, I'm just bummed that I'm now back at home alone. I mean...I missed the cats while I was gone. But now that I'm home I'm like UGH. Cats. More chores. lol.

I had an incident before I left for Winston that REALLY shook me to the core. I was at work and this woman just had a shitty frustrated look on her face so I tried to help her. She straight told me "UGH just....nevermind." like I was some kinda dummy. My associate rang her out and sent her on her way, and I asked my associate if the customer was a bitch to her, too. And my associate says "No, but she sure had a lot of shit to say about you!"....so I retrace my steps. Was I rude? Did I not try to help her in a timely manner? What the hell? I was then informed that she essentially said I was disgusting, how did I expect to be taken seriously with all my tattoos and piercings, when her daughter worked for the company people had to look presentable....bitch went OFFFFF. And my associate informed her that I was the assistant manager, and she said "well I guess I can't say anything else then, can I?". No, you sure the fuck can't, and you shouldn't have said shit to begin with. I was SO hurt I kinda felt like crying. Bitch, did I not try to help you? I saw you were struggling and tried to HELP you, and you treat me like dog shit b/c you don't like how I look? REALLY?! It was just a little mind boggling. But I'm glad I tried to help her and didn't treat her some kinda way....that would have made her feel justified in hating me, I'm sure. But I am NOT that person that "gets off" on the haters. I don't ENJOY people disliking me. And it just really upset me that, to be sure, this chick was gonna go home and tell her family about the horrible pierced and tattooed ragamuffin she saw at BBW. Ugh. Whatever.

I think my appendix just exploded. I'm going to put my clothes in the dryer and go to bed....hopefully get a good night sleep surrounded by fans and stuffed rabbits and cats.

Day 2

So OK. The situation is that the boy moved out. But this blog is not about him. It's about me. Living *the single life*, only without the miscellaneous sex with strangers, b/c I am too damn introverted to go meet any kinda dudes.

I can clean stuff on my own. No problems. In fact, my house looks like the bomb dot com b/c I'm the only one around to make a mess. But when the boy was around, HE cooked. HE drove. HE went grocery shopping w/ me. All of this responsibility has now fallen on MY shoulders. Not a good look. The driving isn't really so bad. COOKING isn't really too awful either...it's mainly 1.) me feeling like cooking and 2.) me finding a variety of dinners vs. eating ravioli every night. It's the hunting and gathering that's the biggest issue. I learned this the hard way today.....

I didn't fall asleep last night til 4am (another complication of the single life). I ended out waking up around 1pm today. So it was already past the time I wanted to go grocery shopping. I figured if I went to walmart EARLY the amount of Tom Foolery might be at a minimum, or at least at a tolerable level. After feeding the cats & myself, showering, etc, I ended out getting to walmart at around 3:30. I almost got into a wreck in the parking lot. Strike one. I get into the store, grab my wagon (a "cart", or in some extreme cases "buggy", as it is known down south) and attempt to get through the sliding doors, only to have a dumb ass senior citizen standing right smack in the middle of the door to admire the fucking christmas tree. Then I almost collided with another fool riding on one of those hover-rounds w/ a shopping basket attached. Strike two. I head to the produce section. I feel like I'm being observed by the hood-boogers working in the deli. So I can't even purchase any bananas. I quickly drive away. I try to go down the bread aisle. There are people and their stupid carts strewn all over the center of the aisle, making it IMPOSSIBLE to get through. So I try to hit the next aisle, and I grab some stuffing without consequence. I think I made it through maybe 1 or 2 more aisles, almost colliding with idiots on every turn. It was when I hit the taco aisle that I lost my shit. I'm minding my own business, trying to not have a nervous breakdown, when a damn walmart employee decides it's a good idea to inform me he likes my tattoos.  Strike three. I'm out. I drive my little cart to an end cab, abandon it and my stuffing, and go the hell out the door. SO pissed. Well....pissed, and a little scared. If I can't handle going and shopping for groceries, how will I survive? I'll starve! So I decide to scoot on off to Target to at least purchase paper towels and maybe some mac & cheese bites for dinner. Once I arrive, I drive my wagon to the pain reliever spot first. I grab some tension headache meds b/c my head is burning. I snatch up some tampons and paper towels and head on over to the mac & cheese bite area. I see some good prices and decide that maybe I'll attempt to grocery shop here. Everything was going fine.....except people and their damn fuckin WAGONS!!!! These bitches just parking their wagons right in the middle of the aisle while they themselves basically sprawl out somewhere else in my way. I really considered playing bumper cars w/ my wagon and other patrons backsides. Eventually circumstances did improve...people were starting to get the hint that when we were on the same aisle they needed to be courteous and get the everliving fuck to one side or the other. So yea. I ended out getting almost everything I needed at Target, for the same price or cheaper than Walmart. I was happy at the end of this whole excursion, but it really left me wondering....how am I going to survive the real world on my own?......