"Hey Lois! Diarrhea."

NO MORE SPENDING, BRE!!!

This is getting out of control. And my horrible energy drink addiction is back in full force.

If it's not one thing, it's another. "Well, I've already spent $100. Why not spend another?"

Jesus. We are never going to get out of Arlington if I keep doing this.

I DON'T need any more shoes. I have over 40 pairs and I only wear like three of them. HEH. It's absolutely ridiculous.

I DON'T need any more dvds! I have almost everything I could ever want on dvd, PLUS every single volume of Family Guy. I DON'T NEED ANY MORE!!!

No more clothes. I can deal with the few I have for work. As long as I look decent and the clothes are clean, who cares if I only have a few outfits for work? I only work there part time anyway.

No more. DONE. The only thing standing between me and moving forward in my life is ME.

With that said, I really need to figure out a way to print out my divorce papers. Apparently our printer is broken. Eff my life.

I need to find a new/second job, as well. Eff.

It's so hard to form coherent thoughts while watching Family Guy. Fail.

Fuck my life.

We need to meet people who don't drink. Or, even better, people who aren't threatened by the fact that we don't drink. 'Cause I'm not exactly wanting to meet people who are fanatical about being sober, 'cause in my experience, they're kind of weird and overwhelming.

*sigh*

It's really fucking sad to think that we've been drinking for SO LONG that after we quit, we can't think of anything to do other than go to a bar.

Or go shopping and spend gratuitous amounts of money that we could be saving to move to Seattle :/

I dunno. What the hell do sober people do? Literally EVERYTHING innocent I can think of (skating, bowling, shows) eventually leads to someone wanting to shove booze in our faces. I know one day I'll be able to handle that kind of situation better, but right now I just don't think I can handle the pressure.

This is killing me. I spend hours racking my brain for things to go out and do. When I finally deduce that there's nothing to do (for lack of money or whatever), all I can think about is painting. And I don't have half the shit I need to start on that. It's really goddamn frustrating. I've got two gallons of white paint and a standard roller and tray, but that's it. I need an extending one for the ceiling, painting tape and a bunch of tarps would be good, heh. Plus I need to wash the shit out of the walls again.

So instead, I clear all the trash out of our room, pick everything up, put it away and get on the computer. Or read. Or sometimes write, which lately has only been making me crazy because my hand can't move fast enough to keep up with my brain. I'm so used to typing everything nowadays.

The job: frustrating. Let's just say I'm not exactly a fan of new bosses starting, them kissing your ass and trying to "get to know you" and act like your friend just so they can better control you. Maybe I'm crazy to think that way, but it's happened to me just like that before. Also, not a fan of bosses who sit and brag about their expensive lives. This lady won't shut up about her goddamn iphone (you know those people who refer to their phones by name instead of saying "my phone"? That's her.). Or how she drove "the other car" to work today. And she unloads stuff she just shouldn't on us about her daughter's relationship problems. Which IMMEDIATELY reminded me of Kris. I DON'T WANT ANOTHER KRIS. I don't want to feel like I have to pass out heaps of fucking sympathy to my co-workers. I JUST WANT TO GO TO WORK TO WORK! *I* don't fucking sit around at work and bitch about my life to everyone! Goddamn! The rest of us just kinda quote ridiculous movies to each other and joke around.

Yeah, I need a new job. And soon. I'm losing my mind there.

I need to go clean something.

Obligatory angsty blog!

So, really. You guys. Something that has REALLY been bothering me is the fact that people WILL NOT believe the fact that I've quit drinking. People still call me and tell me they want to get fucked up. People still say, "Hey, there's this party..." and even after I explain that I quit drinking because I turn into a tragic, mean fucking bitch, they won't let up. At all.

"Awww, come on! Are you sure? It's tasty! I'll buy you a drink!"

I'M. NOT. DRINKING. ANYMORE. I have quit drinking. This does not mean I've slowed down. This does not mean I'm taking a little breather. I have not had one drop of alcohol in over two months. I feel and look better than I've felt in over two years.

I'm not Bre, the drunken, tragic bitch anymore. If you can't accept that, move the fuck on.

Also. I do not appreciate the fact that people I once thought were my friends are now talking mad shit about me. And not really behind my back, either. They're making the mistake of saying it to the one person who tells me EVERYTHING, no matter how painful it might be to hear. So to all of you, thanks so much for being so fucking sweet to my face and then turning right around and calling me 'SUCH a crazy bitch'. Thanks so much. 'Cause I never uttered ONE fucking mean thing about ANY of you in the entire time I've known you all. And even worse, one of you, who I thought was a GREAT friend-- if I ever had a problem with you, I brought it straight to your face. But I guess you don't want to show me the same respect. Thanks.

Okay. Got that off my chest. Yay!

In happy news. Blew a shitload of money on shoes and clothes and movies and household supplies last weekend. I got the best. Pumps. EVAR. I really need to post a picture of them, 'cause somehow I can't find them online. Which is nuts.

Just got Turr's Mac all internetted in my room today after buying a new fancy router. So we're all networked and glorious now. Watching movies on one screen and interbutting on the other. It's retarded boss.

Work is okay. It's been super slow the last week, but whatever. I'm making money. And we finally got a new store manager. She seems nice so far.

Getting my new phone around the 25th. This means I'm changing my number. I'll let you all know when that happens.

Other than all that, starting next Friday, I'm saving up about half of my paychecks toward an apartment. We're moving kinda far. Heh. I'll leave it at that.

And finally, Terry and I are doing fucking fantastic. I am madly in love with a gorgeous moose, San Diego! I love you so much, baby.

Anyhow. Watching Semi-Pro and drinking tea, winding down for bed. Wewt! I have to work tomorrow and it's balls. Bah. Oh well. Need monies.