What's left?

There's me!

or should I say: There's me?










Yes is it. Me surrounded by the question of What am I going to do NOW?

My first instinct is to pop a bottle of $10 Cab blend, a Schnuck's Special, and consume it all while watching the Hugh Grant collection of mediocre DVDs i for whatever reason had to own over the years.

Or I could have an interesting night with a muscle relaxer or two, and go out with a girl friend or two and people-watch in strange STL bars. I'd be smiling for no reason, and possibly putting off the Wonk eye because those little yellow devil pills put me half to sleep. Maybe that's not a good option either.

No Dee No, no bottle of wine, no muscle relaxer... those are for stress related chest pains only, and were prescription... (does heartbreak count? Hmmm)

So isn't it sad that I'm sitting here, on a Saturday night, on V-day night, like "How do I wanna chemically alter myself tonight? Hmm." I should go somewhere. But I don't want to. I should do something (god knows I have a ton of laundry to do) but I don't want to.

So what's happening is I'm getting anxious because there's all this stuff I should be doing, but I don't want to fucking move!! Argh fucking argh.

And to tell you the truth, I know my talking about my recent drama is quiet alientating. Shit, I'm tired of thinking about it much less talking about it.

Anywho, just rambling. Just thinking out loud.

Thanks for reading,

D