(no subject)
I think I know why my life never calms down, simply because I never allow it to. Every time it falls into a really hardcore routine I fuck something up. This might be good, it keeps me on my toes but it also keeps me bitching.
Routine:
Wake up 6:45am
Shower
Get Ready for Work
Stop by Levi’s
Get to job #1
Leave job #1
Stop by Levi’s
Mon - go home and work from home for job #1, Tues-Fri - go to job #2
Go home and sleep
Repeat all over again
Whoopty fucking do. I think it’s understandable how someone could go crazy doing that.
Fuck Up:
I called out of work Friday by saying that my cat is sick. All peachy keen till they asked for proof of a vet visit. I ended up spending $200 on a half assed day off and still had to go in to work for 2 hours for absolutely nothing.
Then yesterday morning I check my bank account on my way to the car (it was supposed to have like 20 bucks in it) only to find out I’m brizzoke, as usual. I still haven’t gotten around to actually figuring out how. My gas tank is on E. I drive over to Levis in hope of him being able to come up with something, but nada. So I had to skip the whole day of work cause there was no way I was going to make it there and back. I did have enough gas to make it to NPME so at least that’s good. I got my emergency credit card from my moms and filled up my gas tank. Nevertheless my boss was pretty fucking pissed at me and I was afraid I was going to loose my job. But in the end I still have my job and I’m back to it. I even came in early and plan on leaving late.
Then Saturday I got completely hammered out of my mind, drinking shot after shot after shot of vodka. I ended up drinking over half a bottle by myself. Levi decided to be DD in case we went anywhere. Yet I still decided to go for a drive, he had to jump into the car as I drove away. We got into a huge fight and I
screamed, yelled, cursed at him for hours. I also hit him over a million times while he was trying to restrain me, threatened to leave and walk away, and everything else that you can possibly imagine. I’m not even sure why we were fighting; I don’t even remember most of this. After we made up I dropped him off and drove home. I only remember dropping him off at home, then I woke up in my bed Sunday morning, hungover like crazy (I very rarely get hangovers). Felt like shit most of the day. Wasn’t sure where my car was, if it was ok or not, or just about anything else. Ended up being fine. Not a scratch. Thank goodness.
I need to stop drinking. Beer has too many calories and everything else is off limits. I’m ready to be clean McGee. I quit smoking pot, I hardly smoke cigarettes due to being broke (and it’s not bothering me much so I might as well quit) and I’m going to stop drinking.
This is quickly going to get really fucking boring. I need to be doing something and it’s not like I can run around having one night stands every weekend.
Routine:
Wake up 6:45am
Shower
Get Ready for Work
Stop by Levi’s
Get to job #1
Leave job #1
Stop by Levi’s
Mon - go home and work from home for job #1, Tues-Fri - go to job #2
Go home and sleep
Repeat all over again
Whoopty fucking do. I think it’s understandable how someone could go crazy doing that.
Fuck Up:
I called out of work Friday by saying that my cat is sick. All peachy keen till they asked for proof of a vet visit. I ended up spending $200 on a half assed day off and still had to go in to work for 2 hours for absolutely nothing.
Then yesterday morning I check my bank account on my way to the car (it was supposed to have like 20 bucks in it) only to find out I’m brizzoke, as usual. I still haven’t gotten around to actually figuring out how. My gas tank is on E. I drive over to Levis in hope of him being able to come up with something, but nada. So I had to skip the whole day of work cause there was no way I was going to make it there and back. I did have enough gas to make it to NPME so at least that’s good. I got my emergency credit card from my moms and filled up my gas tank. Nevertheless my boss was pretty fucking pissed at me and I was afraid I was going to loose my job. But in the end I still have my job and I’m back to it. I even came in early and plan on leaving late.
Then Saturday I got completely hammered out of my mind, drinking shot after shot after shot of vodka. I ended up drinking over half a bottle by myself. Levi decided to be DD in case we went anywhere. Yet I still decided to go for a drive, he had to jump into the car as I drove away. We got into a huge fight and I
screamed, yelled, cursed at him for hours. I also hit him over a million times while he was trying to restrain me, threatened to leave and walk away, and everything else that you can possibly imagine. I’m not even sure why we were fighting; I don’t even remember most of this. After we made up I dropped him off and drove home. I only remember dropping him off at home, then I woke up in my bed Sunday morning, hungover like crazy (I very rarely get hangovers). Felt like shit most of the day. Wasn’t sure where my car was, if it was ok or not, or just about anything else. Ended up being fine. Not a scratch. Thank goodness.
I need to stop drinking. Beer has too many calories and everything else is off limits. I’m ready to be clean McGee. I quit smoking pot, I hardly smoke cigarettes due to being broke (and it’s not bothering me much so I might as well quit) and I’m going to stop drinking.
This is quickly going to get really fucking boring. I need to be doing something and it’s not like I can run around having one night stands every weekend.