NO.

There is no human. There is only BED!

It occurs to me that if there ever IS a man in this bed, I am such a miserable shit first thing in the morning that I couldn’t let him spend the night. Or he’d have to sleep in another room and agree to leave me alone until the meds, coffee, and a hairbrush make me eligible for human contact.

“Sorry, man. ‘Cute and easygoing’ doesn’t show up ‘til, like, 11. Right now we’re at ‘bridge troll.’”

A fundamental flaw in the system

FAR too much “self care” requires getting out of bed, which defeats the whole idea.

Ix-nay on the “vajayjay”

Right, so… I’m really gonna need one of you to come kill me..

Hard pass.

I had therapy this morning, and was made to discuss my feelings, and because of this personal assault, I must unfortunately decline to participate in Monday.

Mercury in retrofuck

Y’all. Y’aaaaaalllll…

I hadn’t planned to post again, but I went back to Match after the last post, aaand… I don’t goddamn remember the clever blog pseudonym I gave this dude while we were dating, but we dated, and it didn’t end well, and since that end (which was…2014? 15?*), he has:

1. Left a Christmas gift on my doorstep while I wasn’t home. It was maybe June and I’d told him repeatedly since Christmas that I didn’t feel right accepting the gift, because HI. BREAKUP.

2. Texted and Facebook messaged just to say hey. (I ignored him every time.)

3. Made me realize I have, like, six boundaries and, in the month we dated, he’d disrespected them all.

Oh, and I later realized he’s kind of a racist. Not, like, a Klan racist — he wasn’t motivated enough to attend meetings — but one of those hometownie racists that only tells the racist jokes to white people because he thinks the white people are with him.

So. Obviously when I went back to Match, GUESS WHO HAD LIKED MY PROFILE.

What, from the bottom of my heart, THE FUCK?

I’m gonna go throw my phone in a river.

* EDIT: I just went back in WordPress and found out it was actually 2013. Jesus Christ.

Nope. No. This is not what’s going to happen.

I’ve been in a fight with my brain and frankly it’s winning, including skipping the gym all week and a triumphant return to feelings-eating that’s left me no longer able to see the changes in my body exercise had achieved.

But fuck you, Brain — I’m smarter than you. Nice people are delivering me healthy food so I’m prepared for Philly’s forthcoming bullshit snowstorm. So if you insist on staying indoors, that’s fine. But you are gonna drink weird fruit smoothies and do SOME form of exercise and have a goddamn productive day, and you are going to LIKE IT. And tomorrow you’re talking to the therapist.

Asshole.

Except…no…

Top 10 least treat-y “treat yo’self”s…

It’s possible I’m not a morning person…

So, a friend and I went to our respective gyms this morning…

🎶 Fly, Eagles, fly, on the road to man-splain-ing… 🎵

I know a few men who will see me on Facebook offhandedly saying I don’t understand something and then JUMP to explain it to me in my DMs, 1) as if I don’t have Google, and 2) as if I care.

I don’t need to understand everything, especially sports. I do not care how the Eagles won the game last night. And no one is rewarding me with orgasms or snacks for pretending I care, soooo I’m not gonna. Run along.