lobsterchick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Too Young to Be Too Old for This Shit How does a person get to the point in her life where a good day of work completely exhausts her? Where she can't go out drinking anymore on the weekends because she pays for it (not just in money, in gastrointestinal juju)? And she cares? Where life becomes a series of wake up-work-come home-lie around-laundry-clean the bathroom-lather-rinse-repeat? Where she checks her bank balance online 37 times a day even though she realizes that it only changes once but maybe something else posted that put her under the zero point, back into Overdrawnland, a place she promised she'd never even visit again? Where she hasn't even been on a date in a year, and hasn't kissed a boy in 11 months? Where she almost (almost) doesn't care? Where she goes to bed every night with the intention of being pious and pure and getting up early and blow-drying and hot-rolling and applying and blending and concealing and glossing? Where she still rolls out of bed at the last possible second and rolls into the work parking lot three minutes late, hair wet, no makeup, glasses, looking the same way she did yesterday and the day before that (and truth be told, every day the week before)? Where her friends become less fun and more obligation not because of anything they've done or are but because seeing them requires either getting out of pajamas or opening the door to let them in the house? 9:37 PM - 01 August 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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