Sorry. -Rachel

I guess your just what I needed, I needed someone to please.

October 30, 2013
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Event : Weighing in…

Mood : Exhausted. Frustration.

Thoughts : Being a server has introduced me to a lifestyle I don’t think everyone leads. Like I’ve met alcohol, beer after a shift, bloody mary after a coffee, bourbon after… well whenever I can afford it. Time flies without notice and being socially awkward isn’t an option. Serving more formally I’m learning to be aware of the way I walk, talk, and smile. My natural belligerence has to be either toned down or redirected. School has accidentally moved to the back burners and reading is reduced to short stories or about my horoscope.  I have entirely too much fun and I’m constantly meeting new people, so I suppose I can’t complain. It’s not like I don’t love it. 

But I am severely unhealthy.

Challenges now include finding the proper times to eat during the day, staying sober in St. Louis during the World Series, and fighting my FOMO (fear of missing out, as my 30 year old friend diagnosed). Thinking about exercising is a joke because I love smoking.

I’m also figuring out how to be safely and happily single again. I guess the couple of boyfriends I’ve had in the last few years may have kept my hyper self-awareness and insecurities at bay, while making me a little more well behaved. Now I feel I’m trying to look hot for the male population while maintaining personality, instead of just the one man who could really care less. I will throw myself at the first gentleman to give me attention.

Writing my pity post hopefully will allow me to reflect. Once I get going it all seems very unimportant. I get impatient with my inability to focus and spell and construct a sentence.

I’m still using my coping tools (for depression) I received from my counselor in college because I recognize these are the things upsetting me while I have other issues to whine about, like my brain tumor or debt or lack of direction or poor relationships with old friends and family… I figure there are time for those later.

Coping : Food log and sobriety.

Breakfast – 1/2 a 7-11 Po Boy.

Snack – 1/2 a chocolate chip cookie.

After work – 2 handfuls of trail mix, grapefruit with sugar.

Dinner – Who the hell knows

Result : Guilt. Plans for troubleshooting.


Life as a Deadbeat

October 31, 2009
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Last time I posted something it was the beginning of June, which in fact, was the last time I did anything worthwhile. With all of my ambitions currently shattered I have nothing better to do but spend all of my time with my boyfriend-thing. Which makes me feel, well, pathetic, and guilty since I’m typing this as he lays here next to me sleeping. Gotta love morning breath. We are very, very, hungover.

At least the sun is shinning. It’s been the wettest October since 1837 in St. Louis (no kiddin HA)

When I don’t write something for a while it’s like calling an old friend for the “How’s life?” conversation. I think I go about things the same way, reminiscing about the last time we talked, “oh how things have changed! oh how time flies!”, what’s happening so far today annnd the finally the weather. Then you realize you can’t bull shit your good ol friend any longer and you just have to tell them what’s really going on even though you are ashamed you didn’t have anything better to say about your life because when the how’s life question is asked the second time the answer changes from “fine” to a mental breakdown, hands touch your face, rubbing your forehead, fisting your eyes like a baby, “Life sucks.”

I didn’t go to California. I hate to say this but I blame mom. In the couple of weeks when I was trying to lock in my plans she stopped eating, sleeping, and was really starting to act cuckoo. I thought she would die if I left. I wussed out and couldn’t leave her, I’m sure if I had gone I would have called her everyday, sent her pictures, and assured her I was fine until she eventually came to terms with me being away. I’m sure she would have gotten over it rather quickly. I don’t spend much time thinking about it but once every other day the sentence “You Should Have Went.” drifts down like the leaves from autumn trees. It sits on a brown leaf, and stares at me on the way down until it settles in the mud of my mind. Haha It’s like that fucking money on the Geico commercials, with the fuckin googely eyes.

I also quit both of my jobs, due to the fact they both sucked and I guess I’m too good for both of them. I’m broke.

I enrolled for 3 classes this semester. Fitness center, figure drawing, and photography. Failed, failing, failing. Like I said things are not so good.

One upside though: my previously mentioned boyfriend-thing. I say boyfriend-thing opposed to just boyfriend alone, no ‘thing’ suffix because well, I think with the amount of time we spend together we might as well be uh, in that type of relationship, but there’s a ‘thing’.

Like his wife he is fighting with on the phone right now.

Will edit later, but for sake of having something posted, I’m publishing this now.


About author

Born and raised in St. Louis, I hate eating at chain restaurants and enjoy drinking beer. I don't know what I'm doing with my life, if you have any suggestions please let me know. Thanks.

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