whining
I have come to the conclusion that all I might need is a good whine. I could whine about how I talk only to my boyfriend on a regular basis. I could whine about how I at the moment I have only two good friends active in my life; how one is in another state soaking it up at the beach and having a hell of a time and the other lives only six miles away and still I never see him. I could whine about how I have a dead end, low-paying job that has nothing whatsoever to do with my degree. I could whine about how I do practically nothing all week and have no real way to change that. I could whine about the frustration I've felt in the past few weeks with my current relationship. I could whine about living with my family and the specific anxiety that comes with it. I could whine about my ex and how he feels that if I want him back (yeah, right!) I would need to lose 20 lbs and be more subservient, not to mention clean myself up more often and dress like a lady, not a bum or a prostitute. I could whine about how my knee has been aching a lot lately and how when I try to doing any of the workouts on the pletheora of videos my sister has collected over the years, I almost cry near the end because of so much impact. I could whine about my lack of motivation or heat. I could whine about the idiots I deal with every day. I could whine about how I haven't had a real roadtrip in over a year. I could whine about how the cookies I made were all eaten before I could eat more than a half. I could whine about how so many people complain about the "single life" when I can't help but miss it sometimes. I could whine about plenty of other things, but I think that instead I will just whine about how I left my bottle of yummy Jack and can't bring myself to buy a new one knowing it is waiting for me at the Fortress. Poor Jack. So alone, so full.