Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Man, everything's the worst!



Today I am crabby Patty. I’m aggravated, for no real reason. I’m exhausted – despite the fact I got nearly 7.5 hours of sleep. I burnt my finger this morning, I couldn’t find anything to wear, and my hair didn’t come out the way I wanted… y’know, one of those days. A day where you count down the hours (6 and a ½) until you leave work.

On the way to work today, my mother was talking to me and I covered my head with a scarf and curled up in the front seat of the car, which forced her to say, “I’m still here!” And I responded, “This is just the worst day!” It was 7:50am. I then started complaining about my morning. And then I wanted to punch myself in the head. That’s the good thing about me, when I’m being a dramatic idiot; I realize it and I shut up. At least I’m aware of it when I’m a total bitch.

But I burnt my finger on a curling iron. The other day my mother burnt her arm – leaving her with two large burn marks – because she brushed it against a tray of bacon, fresh-out-of-the-oven, at work. When my sister and I heard the story, we both gave her shit and kept asking if the bacon was okay – and when she’d continue telling us about how it hurt, we’d go “That’s great. But did you DROP the bacon? Did you have to throw it out?” So when I told her about burning my finger, she had no sympathy for me. Waaaah!

Today was the first time I thought, “I would do anything to go back to school in the Fall.” I thought it was weird, since I breezed through school thinking, “I just have to finish!” But I’d do anything to have those days (much like today) where nothing goes right so I just climb back into bed and stay home, feeling pangs of guilt and regret even though it always worked out. Or, skip my morning class, but go to rehearsal, and then skip my next class to get drunk at the Red Hat.

I love money. I love making it, spending it, finding it in old coat pockets, or in gutters on the street. But part of me thinks I jumped into this too soon, and… settled. Yeah, I realize I’m 22, but isn’t that the perfect time to re-evaluate and re-think instead of getting stuck? I feel like I’ve worked for so long, and I’ve been mature and on the right track… and I am still – it’s not like I’m going to quit my job and take up drugs – but I sort of want to be selfish and do something that makes me happy and puts me on the path I want to be on. A fabulous one. Like Liz Lemon up there, I want that to be me someday... buying black apartments... singing into bottles of Pinot Grigio.

Well, we’ll see. I just want to go write about lesbians.

1 comment:

Erin said...

I love that picture.

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