Subtitle

Warning: Expect foul language. I often blog when sleep deprived, and even when I'm not sleep deprived I cuss.
Warning the second: TMI often occurs. Read at your own risk. Feel free to laugh at my expense (I know I do!).
Warning the third: I suppose I should just put a general Trigger Warning here. I talk about mental illness (Anxiety, panic disorder, depression, social shit), abuse (rarely), and my fucked up relationship with food. And...other things. Actually, just consider this a general warning: If you might be triggered by things, you probably should read no further.

Friday, September 20, 2013

On stress and the lack of booze

I so wish I had money to buy booze. I so wish that I wasn't such a responsible adult that if someone were to GIVE me money for booze I would set it aside for gasoline and other such necessary sundries. SIGH.
I'm stressed. So stressed. I have no job. I had an interview for Amazon for a job that I was under the impression was flexibly scheduled. Which it rather is...as soon as you get through the month of training on a 7 AM to 4 PM schedule. I would not have wasted so much time if I'd know. Le sigh.
So now I look for a job. And look. And look. And apply. And look. I have received no replies, which is both frightening and disheartening. Which gets my crazysauce all up in a tizzy telling me "WHO THE FUCK WOULD HIRE YOU. YOU ARE EXHAUSTED. EVEN IF YOU GET A JOB YOU'LL LOSE IT BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO FUCKING ENERGY."  Day in, day out, with the mental screaming. No many how many times I tell it to shut the fuck up. This is why I need booze.
You see, I'm a happy drunk. It makes me feel better. It helps with physical pain too (OH that's the other thing, the area in which I am living HATES MY SINUSES. Don't worry, fibro's still doing pretty good). It's just...a relief. Which is part of the reason I don't drink much because I've already put such a load on my liver with the painkillers that I don't want to kill it with booze. Because it would be quite easy to become a functioning alcoholic. I also refrain because I don't have the money to be a functioning alcoholic. Sigh.
But I wish I had a bottle of something deliciously alcoholic. You know, the kind of stuff that has you drunk before you even start tasting the booze. I wish I had that bottle all to myself. I would huddle in my room and get drunk and giggle and possibly flirt on the internet. Or maybe just giggle on the internet. I would feel better for a time, and more importantly it would be a release valve for the pressure I feel myself under.
Alas. I have not the money nor the irresponsibility to booze it up.
Alas
Alas
Alack
Oh woe is me.
SIGH.
I'd say AJA AJA FIGHTING, but I'd rather have the booze *pout*.

2 comments:

  1. Haha, so guess what? As of right now, and it's subject to change, your comment on the Bloggess' post on web analytics is right above mine and I was all like, "Squishy Amber? How many names does she HAVE??" So I thought I'd ask. How many names do you have, dude?

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    Replies
    1. I saw that XD. I was like "Heeeeey, I know her!". In answer to your question: Many.

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