I Am Feeling Better. Thanks, Max.

I definitely am feeling better. So much so that I haven't puked once in the last 48 hours, and I think we can all agree, that's just good stuff.

Today was a long, long day. I'm struggling with whether I want to just come out with it already and post it, or if I want to live in denial for a little longer before purging it from my head and heart, thus making it real. The jury's still out on what to do with the whole situation, so I think I'll just wait it out and see what happens before sharing the whole God-awful story.

I generally get through stuff that hurts and stuff that sucks by working my little heart out. Tonight, I went on a power cleaning tour around my home. My diningroom is completely moved around. My home office area is in a completely different spot. Every dish in the house has been cleaned (whether it needed it or not) and I'm feeling at least satisfied with the cleanliness of my house if nothing else.

I do really need to file...but since that is hands down my least favorite chore at home (and at the office, for that matter), I think I'll be procrastinating that task until tomorrow. Believe it or not, I still have crap in boxes that needs to be filed, from the move two months ago. Filing is not my idea of a good time, I don't care how many cool little color coded tabs and funky markers I have to do it with.

I ended up going out with Megan for a while last night. That was fun. We ended up going down to the Irish Pub that's about a mile from here and talking for a while. Well...the intention was to talk, but they had karaoke, and since I'm a karaoke whore, I just couldn't keep myself from partaking.

While we're on the subject of bars, I've got a question for my dear, sane readers. What is UP with the bar sluts nowadays? Last night, there's this girl. She can't be more than 21/22 at the most. She is out there on the dance floor with a different guy each time shaking her shit like she's a stripper. Envision this with me, if you would. Long dark hair. Decently pretty face. Tube top in fuschia that only covers her breasts. Mini skirt that you can literally see her ass in. More than a handful of flubber hanging over the top. She wasn't a fat girl, not really, but she obviously gave birth sometime in the last year and should be a little self conscious of the clothes she wore her freshman year of high school. I ask you, why? Why on Earth would any self respecting girl get out on a dance floor and dance the way she was (serious humping moves. There's no other way to put it...the girl was having her way with an imaginary person both in front of and in back of her)? It was rather disgusting. Yet, she was comfortable enough that she was doing it, and confident enough that every 12 beats or so, she'd slap her ass and run her finger from her mouth all the way down between her breasts touching herself. I'm thinking the girl needs to empty her porn stash into the garbage and start hanging out with real people so that she can see what's expected of her in society. Ewww.

Well...that's it for tonight. I'm gonna curl up on the couch and read until I fall asleep.

Goodnight!

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