At least I get to be here. Gratitude. Remember your attitude of gratitude. I have to remember to do this more, I actually woke up soothed by the thought that I could.

It’s been a while since I’ve been here… the quotations around here are unnecessary. It’s been a while since I was home in general, and even longer since I had time to do this. Truth to be told… I forgot what I was going to say.

Telephone by Lady Gaga and Beyonce (don’t you dare forget how Beyonce picked up that track) is actually a pretty good anthem for my life… and why I can’t date. Or have meaningful relationships of any kind. Who the fuck are all these people who assume I have time? Because I so don’t.

So I don’t want to go on and on, in this precious time that I take out for myself, about how I don’t have time. I woke up too early today considering how late I got home, my head full of thoughts about what would go here. Now it’s all gone, and I guess that’s fine too. I feel much better.

I’ve not been feeling good lately, at all. I have a pain in the small of my back, right under where my shoulders end and my back begins, the spot on the spine that I so cruelly snap when I need to dismember a turkey carcass for stock. I look at it, the inside of the vertebrae exposed, cooked spinal cord and its supporting vascular tubes dangling helpless from the whole. It hurts, more every day, when I stand, when I breath. I have to get on top of my health.

I called a chiropractor, lamely, around the corner from here. I’m having a hard time dealing with my age. Happy birthday. I’m no longer their favorite clients, a hot young girl who wants to have their healing hands on me. I don’t like the way I’m suddenly being viewed in the world, or rather not viewed. I have to get comfortable with this, as time is moving forward and I have to make the most of what’s left here. I’ve gained a lot of weight, suddenly. I know what’s wrong, my Father told me – he saw it clearly.

Stress. I am so stressed. This job has got me, my relationships have got me, my body has got me, my life has got me… so stressed. How do I get on top of that? I have to get on top of this.

I’m learning that I have to put myself first in terms of work… if I suck at my job, I suck at my job. Everyone else seems to be fine with it, and this is my life to live. Fundamentally. The job is such, and I hate to be fatalistic but time is running out for me to make good decisions and I do not what to waste time (this policy applies to so much of my life) that I can not do a good job anyway, because they all suck so bad. Maybe they don’t truly suck, but maybe they’ve all come to the same conclusion as I have and so they don’t mind dropping the ball on me all the time. So, I have learned, yet again, that I have to put myself first and put myself out there.

I made more money on the way to the airport than work will pay me for my entire business trip. I have to understand that, fully, and embrace that, fully. There’s nothing wrong with that, and I truly don’t understand how anyone who understood that would fault me for taking the money.

And yet they do. I have a quote by Anton LaVey floating in my head, and I want to put it down but I know that I’ll butcher it so badly… that you’ll get more power out 60 watt bulb that’s on 20% of the time than a 20 watt bulb that’s on 60% of the time. Like dudes, I add value to your workplace regardless. I’m doing a better job than you even though I spent 4 hours out of the day on someone’s dick. I answer more emails on the plane home from my dates than I see you doing all day.

This may not exactly be true, but considering that I make more in one day than the quarterly bonus that I just got, whatever it’s true enough.

And considering my age, which is beginning to be a sore spot which I must soothe (I suddenly thought of my Father and I have to call him… my Mother as well tbh), I can see now that this will not be true forever. So I absolutely must take advantage. I’m lucky that I can.

I have been working so hard not to think of my relationship, which does not deserve to be thought of. I spoke to my best friend the other day (I have to call her too).

First off, is this a relationship that you’re really interested in pursuing?

I cut her off after that, but she’s absolutely right. That is a valid question.

I called her after a catastrophic fight with the boy (who will never deserve a more mature moniker apparently, even though he is in fact older than me), and that was the first (I almost wrote worst) question that she asked me. And I get it, because honestly from her perspective it bears asking. Asking like WTF?

I wonder if she did sleep with him in college. I wouldn’t be mad at her, but I would be mad at him. Because honestly she probably barely remembers except for the name, since she sleeps with everyone (and it was before either of them knew me I bet), whereas he probably still thinks back on that night fondly and considers it a notable conquest with a truly special girl, because she is.

And there it goes, right back to another very valid question.

But does he even eat pussy?

Ah, this man and all those men. All those men who even though they’re not even supposed to, have done so much more for me than he has, as a person and not just a pussy. I have to learn this lesson thoroughly.

Ugh, this is the hard part. Although I do wonder if the reason he sucks so bad is because I never gave him the chance to be better, but this is not at all true. I only wonder if there’s anyone out there who is asking the same thing about me.

And I wonder if it’s anyone that I really care about. Unfortunately, probably not. Why is life so screwed up like that?

This coffee mug that the boy gave me is a little too big. There’s more coffee in here than I can drink before it gets cold.

I think that this is a valuable consideration when choosing a mug. 6oz is too small, but a whole pint is too big unless it’s properly insulated.

Put me on the phone with marketing, they need to know this.