This year I am thankful for Netflix and pajamas.

Texting a friend after a chat with my boss…

Missing the (Hall)mark

*girl in my office gets Valentine flowers*

 

“Awww, I want flowers…” *pout*

“Do you want to actually DATE a man so he’ll send them to you?”

“Oh. Um…nah, I’m good. I’ll just buy my own flowers and skip that side of bullshit.”

 

Happy Valentine’s Day, my lovelies! 💕

You can just fuck right the hell off, actually.

This was Facebook’s suggested post for me today, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m-a go find me a window to jump out of. Not because I’m dying alone, I’m fine with that, but because this bullshit exists.

You said “avoidance” like it’s a BAD thing…

I went to therapy last night, and only just now realized I completely forgot to bring up the thing I’d been meaning to discuss, and we ended up on some other bullshit entirely.

 

Me: “Well, if I forgot, it must not have been THAT important.”

 

Also Me: “Or you’re becoming an expert in avoiding uncomfortable topics.”

 

First Me: “You can fuck right the hell off. That is an undervalued life skill!”

 

🙄

 

I’ll make a note for next time.

“Hippies, hippies…they want to save the world but all they do is smoke pot and play Frisbee!”

Some days all the hippie feely stuff I follow on Facebook makes me feel better.

And then some days it’s like, “Hey, you know what, Special Snowflake? Shut the fuck up with your groovy bullshit.”

Bookworming my way out of bullshit

When your family is coming to visit and you go around the house to collect all the books you’re reading and hide them in the bedroom, because it’s basically just a list of eight conversations you don’t feel like having today, plus the fact that “you read too much” and “have too many books — ha ha ha, hoarder” has somehow been a truly hilarious running joke for them since your childhood…

#issues #SuckItNowIGetPaidToRead

Good feelings gone.

Via The Frisky: Ghostbusters Star Leslie Jones Leaves Twitter After Racist And Misogynistic Abuse.

It’s a trap!

I was a real live grownup today.

It’s a bunch of bullshit, don’t fall for it.

Escape: Plane and Simple

I’m pretty excited to be taking a vacation that requires a plane, and leaving all my bullshit behind — if only for a week, and if only metaphorically, since my bullshit lives in my brain and actually travels quite well. I checked, though, and there’s no fee for emotional baggage on domestic flights. Score!

It’ll still be good to get away, particularly to get away to anywhere warmer than here.

So I’ll see y’all soon, assuming more pleasurable climes don’t claim me as their own. 

See also: fuck you, winter.

Kelly Bundy, Kimmy Schmidt, and the “Grey’s Anatomy” method of avoidance.

Wow. WordPress readers really love my anxiety, don’t they?

More years ago than I care to consider, there was a show called Married with Children that probably wouldn’t make it in today’s infinitely-more-PC TV landscape. I remember people being offended by it at the time, but it was the late ’80s/early ’90s and most people didn’t give a fuck.

So there was the dumb blonde bimbo daughter, Kelly (Christina Applegate). She’s more appealing than her sports-fan father, so she goes on a sports trivia show in his place. But she knows nothing about sports, so he fills her brain with trivia before the show, and for every sports fact she absorbs, a bit of basic life knowledge leaves her brain, rendering her dumbstruck (seen here) when asked to recall everyday knowledge.

That’s where I am right now. For every bit of bullshit my brain has encountered this week, I’ve lost knowledge and patience. This morning I stood in the shower with conditioner on my hair, and for just a second completely blanked on what the next step was. And I just snapped at my brother because he’s being a fucking asshole. (Though I do kind of love it when I finally give up on trying to be polite and just say what I’m thinking.)

Family issues, friend concerns, medication that’s ruining my appetite and dehydrating me, not sleeping, and additional things with That Guy, all in those 3 days of spiked blog stats… I’m out. I spent my workday NOT FUCKING WORKING, but rather ensnared in a texting clusterfuck with aforementioned brother.

Also, I know my friends love me and will listen to me, but I’m sick of being the Needy Friend — they’ve heard a LOT this week, I sent a goddamn list. (Subject line: “No advice needed; just FYI, everything is fucked.”) I’ve talked to friends, a therapist, my personal journal, and you people. I am tired of thinking and talking about my fucking feelings. I’m not even upset, per se — I just want to go home and sit there for a week or so and not talk to anyone or think about anything. Maybe just spend the whole week re-watching all of Grey’s Anatomy in my pajamas.

So yeah. I’m currently at a Bundy Brain grade 4. I’m gonna pull a reverse Kimmy Schmidt and put my ass into the doomsday bunker.