Bitch-Babies ‘R’ Us

Tonight I’m going to a party where I may or may not see Guy I Dated for a Minute, and I officially hate my brain and its tendency to overthink. Mostly because it’s overthinking the fact that HE’s likely not overthinking a goddamn thing.

I should mention: I am fully aware he tapped — heh — into some things in my brain he couldn’t POSSIBLY have known about. I could’ve behaved differently, so I know it’s not totally his fault that he’s a giant bitch-baby.

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Come for frivolity, stay for…more frivolity.

I just admitted to not knowing about a particular political issue, and my brain kicked in with, “You know one day your friends are gonna realize how stupid you are and not be your friends anymore, right?”

*sigh* Yes, Brain. You’ve mentioned.

But also? Fuck you, Brain. My friends know I’m the Joey, and they love me anyway — no one’s expecting me to blow their mind with my thoughts on Hamas.

Broken Brain Blues

Post-therapy text to friends:

“BTW, I just got out of therapy and you wanna hear some horseshit? Not only does she want me to be happy and well adjusted, turns out she can’t just ask me a couple questions and fix 40 years of shit in 45 minutes. It’s, like…long-term work? That *I* have to figure out with her help? This is just like all this alleged ‘exercise’ people want me to be doing. UGH.”

P.S. It’s a joke, I knew what I was getting into. But it IS also bullshit that I drew the short straw in the brain department.

“That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”

I just noticed that Guy I Dated for a Minute has RSVP’ed “yes” to a mutual friend’s holiday party I also said “yes” to.

Whatever, fuckface — I ain’t scared.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to spend the next 3 weeks getting pretty and practicing ignoring douchebags. Because that’s what Jesus would do.

(I’ve realized recently that whole thing messed me up more than it should have. But screw it, that’s what therapy’s for. Let’s dance, Psyche.)

“Hi… I’m in Delaware.”

I am legit staring at this man’s face in his OkCupid profile, trying to decide if I’m physically attracted to him.
I don’t think I am, but he lives in goddamn Delaware, anyway. *shaking fist at geography*

I’m at least sending him a “we need to be friends” message.

A fine day for texting at Smug HQ

The Cute Dog Guy from OkCupid DID in fact send me a series of adorable dog (not dong) pics, AND a video of a dog frolicking on the banks of a lake.

So of course I reported back to my Friends Focus Group…