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Let’s just say last week was pretty weird for me. I’d rather not go into details, but let me just say the weirdness went into automatic proportions (a private joke there, har har har- what.) which rather left me depressed for the remainder of the week. If not for Sorsi I’d probably be depressed still. And that’s saying a lot, because when I talk to her I usually end up depressed and suicidal most of the time.
Anyway, I’ve probably been so awesometastically used to rejection that I don’t mind it lately (which is scary in itself). I really don’t understand what’s wrong with my approach. C’mon ladies, isn’t getting various pictures of me holding your mom hostage with the words “I Love You. Love Me Back. Or Else” written on her forhead the sweetest thing? Or the time I helpfully handed you your soap and shampoo in the shower? Wasn’t it a pleasant surprise? Read the rest of this entry »
