My brain is broken.

Yesterday my friends told me they ran into Guy I Dated For a Minute, and now for some reason it’s all I can think about.

I THINK it’s partly because my doctors are screwing with the drugs I take, so I hadn’t been in the greatest mental place, anyway, but it’s sort of spiraled into a fun rehash of the “not enoughs” — pretty, smart, cool, good in bed… All the things you think you can suck at, I’ve been telling myself I suck at. Like… this dude doesn’t even want to be FRIENDS with me. What the fuck is that? Am I THAT boring? I even offered him friends with benefits and…still no? So I’m not good enough in bed to fuck a third time?

And by the way? The sex was…serviceable. It was good, but not great. It got the job done. And the dude’s nice and all, but I think I mostly saw friendship there. I have no idea why this is bothering me so much NOW. We’ve been not dating longer than we WERE dating, and it HADN’T been bothering me before. I think I’m finally getting that we’re not going to even be friends, and so I just feel gross and used and stupid. Again. (I teared up while writing that, so it’s possible I nailed it.)

The “stupid” is big because I’m attracted to people smarter than I am, in relationships and friendships, and it goddamn blows to not even be friends-worthy.

*shaking head*

UGHHHHHH. Bitch, stop being a bitch, bitch!

(Here’s hoping putting this in writing is therapeutic, because my actual therapist is on vacation this week.)

This is not biology; it’s a sinister ploy. 

It’s one of those menstruation days on which I’m so irrationally exhausted that I’ve become suspicious of the entire process, as if my body is somehow shedding things it shouldn’t, like…”No, no, we NEED that, what are you doing?!”

Before I left the house today I just threw a bunch of pills in my face and chased them with a bucket of coffee. Screw it, it’s bound to fix something.

“Look at me, I’m skinny. It never stopped me from gettin’ busy.”

I would prefer not to be the kind of woman who gets a tiny self-esteem boost when someone asks if she’s lost weight. Especially when it’s accompanied by, “You look so skinny!”

Ahem… I would prefer not to be…

In my defense, I was getting a li’l rotund for 5 feet tall. So it’s good to hear all this fresh food/taking walks/ordering less takeout bullshit may be helping. (Don’t get it twisted — there’s still ice cream. I don’t hate myself THAT much.)

Also, a happy bonus of ADD is that drugs for it can suppress appetite, and dehydrate you so you drink tons of water and aren’t as hungry. They may also have crack in them. I don’t know. I’m not a scientist.

I would prefer not to be the kind of woman who gets a tiny self-esteem boost when someone asks if she’s lost weight. Especially when it’s accompanied by, “You look so skinny!”
Ahem… I would PREFER…
In my defense, I was getting a li’l rotund for 5 feet tall. So it’s good to hear all this fresh food/taking walks/ordering less takeout bullshit may be helping. (Don’t get it twisted — there’s still ice cream. I don’t hate myself THAT much.)
Also, a happy bonus of ADD is that drugs for it can suppress appetite, and dehydrate you so you drink tons of water and aren’t as hungry. They may also have crack in them. I don’t know. I’m not a scientist.

P.S. I know I’ve bitched about people commenting on my weight in the past, so to clarify, this was someone I’m cool with.

The new All-Wheel Drive Honda Singleton.

I’ve had a shitty week — just too much stupid all coinciding: relationships, finances, PMS, change in prescription drugs (I don’t think they’re supposed to make you feel worse), and ball-sacky weather. It’s mangling my body, my sleep, and my attitude.

I wish our bodies had more obvious gauges for things. A red light should come on to let you know you need to eat a vegetable because your body requires, like, riboflavin or whatever. Or, *ding ding* “Oh, OK, I have to exercise more and maybe I’ll stop feeling as if I’m constantly dragging my body through sand,” or, *BEEP* “Says here this drug is fucking me up. The gauge just told me to call the doctor and get THIS drug, and it’ll fix you right up.”

Or even a green light: “You’re OK, it’s just the heat. Crank the AC and drink more water.”

We need a more specific human schematic.

We should be able to upgrade our bodies like car models. I’d like the Sport features, please. 

Can my body get nav?