so i am no longer in the depths of despair. maybe the shallows.
really i am just insanely bored with my life. it feels like i am endlessly waiting for this event, that raise, this vacation, that party. not bad things mind you. but the in between bits seem dull, unfulfilling and leave me a hairsbreath short of suicidal. mostly i think i might be lonely of actual companionship (i want to kill my flatmate with a dull blade these days.) well, and i haven't been laid in all of two weeks.
right, but on the brightside, liam and i have bonded over lost love and a lot of whiskey. when my friday night plans fell through we had one of those epic nights of insignificant randomness that indie film makers find seminal. jim jarmuch has nothing on our ennui and banter.
plus, had sunday girly brunch with waffles for dessert. i was skeptical of breakfast food as pudding, but lordy lordy. orgasm in a diner. orgasm on a plate. orgasm in my mouth. (why do I feel like the Xrated Dr. Seuss?)
in other news, i have given up beer and tea for lent. i find it slightly disconcerting i now drink copious amounts of coke and whiskey (not together, though can tipples at lunch be far off?). i think that might be cheating.
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