I am really emotional today. I cried in the bathroom at work after listening to Lady Antebellum's "What if I never get over you?" too many times and having a big old pity party for myself. Loneliness is especially terrible during the holidays. Seemingly, everyone is excited and decorating and buying gifts and baking cookies and getting together with friends and family and planning a nice holiday for the kids or curling up on a couch with a significant other, on a cold night, with a fire roaring perhaps, and glasses of whiskey.
I want that. I want love and to be loved. It is what I have wished for and wanted forever. Every year, on my birthday, I would blow out candles and wish for love. Just, love. Any love. Someone please fucking love me. I don't want to die alone. And last night I did. Last night I had a horribly real dream that I was going to die. It was determined, I was aware of it and thinking thoughts about it. I was worried about how my apartment would be left behind, and felt this remarkable loss over all that I could no longer do or never get to do. It was terrifying. All day I've been in a funk.
Tomorrow is my work holiday party. I ordered a dress online, size small, and it was snugger and lower cut than I would've preferred so it's going back. I have two other options but they are both old as fuck and I want a new dress but really shouldn't spend any extra money. I am living paycheck to paycheck but should be able to save in the new year. Made a few risky but reasonable changes with my deductions to create more take home pay, effective January 1. Also, word on the street is that a Christmas bonus is to be expected.
I have shit to do and all I wanna do is lay here in my pajamas and get fucked up and cry and listen to music and introvert to my heart's delight. But this apartment isn't going to clean itself. Plus I have to take care of my cat's litter and decide on an outfit.
Just needed to vent briefly.
