My life is hitting the shitter pretty quick. Last night I went out and got drunk (again), got lost on my way home (again) and I think I puked (but very efficiently, cuz I can find no evidence other than my vague memory).
He still hasn't come by for his stuff or called. Someone said last night if he isn't doing that and returning his key, he doesn't really want to leave. Maybe, but he will once he hears from someone what a complete drunken moron I've been lately. Ugh. Self-sabatoge much?
And as Natalie had to decide to do the other day, my next post will be cheerful. I promise.
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