I am writing a shopping list. I know I need important stuff but I can't remember what. I cannot be fucked getting up and looking. I'm not even sure if/when I'll go out. It pisses down outside, pauses, then pisses down again. I've had a shower this morning. One with soap and warm water. I do not want to take another in my clothes with my back bent under the load of boring, boring groceries. I'm not sure this vegetarian thing agrees with me. I've been cranky and depressive all month so far and have mostly eaten bread and cheese. There is a limit to how much cheese a girl can consume especially once she's eaten all that was in the fridge. I shall put cheese on my list.
Everything's such an effort today. I didn't consume that much tranquiliser/wine last night so it can't be that. Such exhausting dreams with family and boy and trying, trying to write and not getting anywhere. Sooner or later I'll give this writing thing up. I am not good at it. It's all desire and self delusion and I am tired of it. I will settle for being able to do a nice-ish little line in essays - a talent I'll probably never use again - and be done with it.
The dreams were killer. I want to fuck you but I'm really not that interested in your life story or in mothering you. You already have a mother why would you want mothering from me? You know how hard I am to please so please stop now before you become totally neurotic. I don't know why I write to you when you don't read here and cannot be blamed for my dreaming of you. I think I will blame you though, it's easier than blaming me. And, of course, thinking of you stops me from thinking of other people who aren't interested in me either. I am becoming infected with self-hate. I hope the alcohol helps.
I shall have to go out, later at least, to have beer. It had better be rather a lot of beer. I need to drink. Awful. What coping skills I have. Depressed, sad, generally unhappy, constantly craving, lustful loser, unloved, unrequited, ignored - get drunk! Oh yeha, a nice line in coping. Pity it's Sunday afternoon beers and not a proper bender. This is the trouble with getting older. And being an arse. I must remember to eat before I drink. I must remember to have some toast at some stage. I might feel better if I'm not hungry. It seems to work for the fish.
I wanted to see a movie today but I was dreadfully lazy and could not/would not get up. All the movies I want to see are on either too too early or too too late. I suspect seeing a movie after I've had a gutful of beer would be a bad idea. Many pee breaks, not much movie. Maybe if the weather holds off for more than three seconds I could run to the shops for my groceries and maybe a cheap DVD. For some reason I feel like seeing The Goonies or maybe The Graduate. I've never seen The Graduate. Maybe I could just watch the second Wayne's World movie and imagine that I am watching The Graduate. The decision can wait until I come home all full of beer and feeling even sorrier for myself. Maybe the beer will make me happy. Maybe not. I am spending too much of my time being a fool these days. I will stop it. I will.