Thursday, January 7, 2010

FUCK YOU! (Not you. YOU)

"no news = good news = I pray" ~Ugu~

Ugu had it right - I haven't written, cuz things have been going well. Who wants to be bored with that?

Thank God then that I went back to work for the first time tonight and it FUCKING SUCKED.

I had a good day today, my two-weeks-sober anniversary. Went to treatment during the day, then picked up Baby and met with Sponsor for coffee, then after dinner I took Baby to an Eating Meeting. While I was there, I started to get frantic, non stop phone calls from Girl Agent.

The buzzing finally drove me nuts and I checked my phone, to discover that she had a show for me, tonight at 11. I had already shared in the meeting, going first so that Baby and I could stop distracting everyone else and leave early. She actually did amazingly well, but I didn't want to push it. I called Girl Agent once we were out the door and said that I would do the show, then drove Baby home.

Bf was nervous when I told him. I can hardly blame him - did you know that the night that I blacked out for seven hours and had to call my parents to rescue me that Bf and Baby had driven around for over an hour, trying to find me? WELL NEITHER DID I. I have absolutely no memory of the fact that Bf got Baby into the car in the middle of the night and drove around downtown City for over an hour, trying to find his blackout drunk girlfriend in her crapped out car.

No wonder he was pissed when I didn't call the next day.

Anyway, I reassured him that everything would be fine, as he and Baby helped me get ready for my show by applying makeup to each other's faces. The end product of their artistry was to evoke my last genuine laugh of the night. By the time I was ready to go, my confidence had dissipated entirely, leaving me feeling certain that my reflection resembled a fat old drag queen. Not the best frame of mind to head out to do a stag in, but I had no one to blame but myself - I have been eating shit for weeks, not going to the gym on a regular basis, and I haven't hit the tanning bed in months. I looked like shit, I reasoned, because I have been a lazy fat ass. So suck it up, Princess, I thought, and get your fat ass out there.

I couldn't have orchestrated a worse scenario for my first sober stag had I brought MS back to life to sexually assault me for sport. It was seriously soul destroying. And yes, I am being melodramatic, but it's my fucking blog. So get bent.

I couldn't get them to come into the living room so I could start my show. Seriously, it was like trying to herd cats, they were all over the fucking place. Which did nothing to help my already decaying self esteem. When I finally got them all into one room and got Douchebag #1 to play some fucking music - which took about 20 MINUTES - they stayed for maybe a minute, then started coming and going during my show. This was especially upsetting since there were only 5 guys and 1 girl, plus two topless waitresses.

Ah fuck, I am so tired. I'll finish this tomorrow. Sorry.

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