My connection to Xanga was down for like 2 or 3 days straight; I thought I was gonna have a conniption. I need to copy and paste all my entries or something cuz that’s like 8 years of memories. And I went through a lot. haha!
I was crazy back then and I’m sooooooo crazy now. Glad to see I’m still me.
The boyfriend wanted to take me and one of his coworker out to the new casino tonight. At first I was like “sure” cuz it’s so pretty-ful and all but I’m really not feeling it right now. I’m not feeling doing anything right now but maybe venting to a friend or two. Where are my friends? Do I have any??? haha. Umm so yeah, I really don’t want to lose any money gambling. (I pretty much hate gambling. It’s a waste. I grew up by Atlantic City so never had the opportunity to be mesmerized by it all.) Also if I go tonight I’d really just want to get super drunk and I still have one last day left at work. Not a good look to come in at the last day hung over. I actually have never been “hung over” but I don’t want to come in feeling tired and zombie-like and/or sick. Hopefully tomorrow will be a cool, maybe shortened, day of cleaning out my space and doing my exit interview. Ha! I still don’t know what I’m going to say there. Or when they call me up to have my “it’s your last day” speech. One of my colleagues left today and they did the whole goodbye thing for her, but they really loved her. Me? I just feel like I worked there. I didn’t connect.
Confession? I wish I would have went about trying to just take a little time off on disability. I know my depression is one of the bigger factors in me up and leaving. And I know it’s not going to just go away with a move. I’m praying it doesn’t get worse when I’m around my family 24/7 and I have to pretend I’m ok. And I hope I don’t let the depression pull me into smoking weed like my cousins do frequently like it’s nothing. Or cigs. I mean, yeah, I’m craving a cigarette so bad right now but it’s part of the “process” of quitting I guess. The rebel in me though just wants to chain smoke through half a pack and drink until the room starts spinning all because I’m not pregnant. Again. And probably won’t be for a while. I took a test like yesterday, was it? All I remember is crying myself to sleep last night. Yeah… So I actually really believed this time I was. Ha. And the doctors tell me: oh nothing’s wrong with you. Just get on birth control to regulate your periods.
I don’t think God wants me to be a mom.
Tell me … how should I go about coming to terms with that? How about just accepting the fact that my boyfriend doesn’t want a wedding? He wants to get married to me but from his reactions to my questions about wedding planning, I can tell he wants absolutely nothing to do with a wedding. And sure, you don’t have to have one. It’s the marriage that counts, not how you get married. But when little ol’ me — the girl who skipped both junior and senior proms, didn’t care about going to her college graduation, didn’t participate in any of the senior events, the girl who hates the spotlight and poofy dresses — when I say that I actually want to get dressed in white and have that walk down the aisle and make my fiance cry and have a first dance and pictures and a reception with all the people I love because I’m only doing this once — that really means something. But no. He hasn’t even bought me a ring. Money being the reason behind no wedding, no ring. Yet I’d accept a $15 ring from one of those teeny bopper stores at the mall or a department store jewelry rack. The ring I’ve showed him I really want is not that expensive, relatively. Like 200 bucks. I know the past is the past but I can’t help remembering the times he has taken that amount or more out of my bank account for beer, smokes, cocaine.
The past is the past.