Oh the H.E. double hockey sticks with it.

Call me crazy, but when you've been up for 8 hours and the bestest part of your day was watching a fuzzball sway in the wind in the parking garage, perhaps its time to find a desk to crawl under and try again tomorrow.

The really awful part of that statement is that my weekend ROCKED!!!! Friday night on the town, courtesy breakfast to stave off aftereffects, nap in my bed before having the house to myself all day to watch movies and be a dork with the dogs and sing aloud and cook food and overall hide from the blistering heat outside followed by a leasurely Sunday morning before heading out to The Valley for a poetry reading by the author, an old family friend, and spending the rest of the day being a girl with my sister at an outlet shopping mall and a comp'd dinner at her place of work.

Somehow I thought if I were busy for the weekend, the work ethic would bleed into my work week. But Oh Haaaiiiiillllllll NO. Today is worse than ever!! Not that the muggy heat and my house would have me being any kind of productive. Not that its a major problem the AC is on so high in here that my triple padded booby bra is still letting the headlights shine through and sitting here is freezing my fingertips blue. I've met deadlines, taken notes at a meeting, done stuff, had breakfast energy drinks AND lunch... but somehow all that is calling to me (besides blog crawling, but I did that last night without the restricted access) is the foot rest under my desk.
Maybe new nylons aren't uncomfortable enough to keep me from thinking this outfit is more comfy than my PJs??? When I wear any that is.
Perhaps its that I got barked at first thing today and my inner adolescent is finally ready for her rebelious phase??
Perhaps its just that there is a lull in the office and its the hum drum mentality in the vents that is killing my appetite to work??

Heres the real rub. I went out to Happy Hour/lets run up his cards on top shelf shots all over town with this friend of a guy I guess I was dating last year. He is a year younger than me, covered in tatoos, has two kids by two mamas (didn't know that until the night was half over ya'll, give me a little slack), and makes TRIPLE the money I do by sitting at home 4 days a week and 'managing' the operations of a construction site via paperwork.
I sat in a restaurant and watched waitresses pick up $20 tips every hour. EVERY HOUR ya'll. How much of that do you think they declair on thier taxes??? How much you wanna bet their homes are nicer than mine (if they have two brain cells about them)?? I know our bartender was remodelling a house in the Valley - in 4 months she doubled its value and isn't in debt at all. She is paying for it with cash out of OUR pockets!!! And here I am deciding if anorexia is a good enough diet to start an IRA for, because I can't afford to save and eat at the same time.
Whhhhaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!
Yeah, I'm whining. I'm a double major college graduate from a real university with a real campus and a real library to visit and its been 5 and a half years since I graduated and started in the work force and I am making less than my sister was at 18 years old and 3 months out of High School!!!
And the roomies are pissing me the fuck off. Its not them as people. Its them as roomies. And THAT pisses me off more than anything because I either have to euthenize my dog and live in a hovel of an apartment somewhere or find new (and possibly much MUCH worse) roomies to learn to deal with and then slowly (or quickly) despise.

So here I am, trying NOT to read the classifieds for roomies OR new jobs because neither are that bad AT ALL in the great scheme of things but somehow my mood and self worth have plummeted severly since I started accepting my house as where I live and accepting that moving up the ladder in an corporation will involve some growing pains AND I'VE BEEN LAID which pisses me off even more that it hasn't put me in a SUPER upbeat mood because now I have a trail of men who keep waiting for me to call but all I want to do is sit alone in a hole.

Fuck PMS and all its little symptoms. I'm blaming it on that, and I don't care what time of the month it is - this way I'll assume this fit of insufficiency will pass eventually and the sense of glee and wonderment at how sweet my life is will feel like normalcy instead of a break in the rainstorm my little black cloud keeps gifting me.

Someone told me to get on the pill to help regulate my moods - anyone got any advice on that particular topic?