ugh
So, ugh. No, see, it's just that. . .argh.
Someone please tell me that one day, someday, somewhere in the not-so-distant future, I will cease to be this socially inept. Seriously. Because it is past the point of being cute and funny, and there's no television audience erupting in canned laughter when I start relaying a story about the time that Eddie and I (and others) put maxi-pads on this guy's tree because we didn't like him, and we didn't have any toilet paper. I want to die. Right now.
I want that thing. You know, that thing when I can say whatever I want (non-menstruation related, of course), and not give a rat's ass what anyone thinks. Or go to a party and not have to cling to the two people that I know there.
I'm never leaving the house again. I will eat only Campbell's soup and order DVD box sets over the internet. I already have a cat. I'm one step ahead of the game.
It's because the answer is 42, and I can't do math.
Someone please tell me that one day, someday, somewhere in the not-so-distant future, I will cease to be this socially inept. Seriously. Because it is past the point of being cute and funny, and there's no television audience erupting in canned laughter when I start relaying a story about the time that Eddie and I (and others) put maxi-pads on this guy's tree because we didn't like him, and we didn't have any toilet paper. I want to die. Right now.
I want that thing. You know, that thing when I can say whatever I want (non-menstruation related, of course), and not give a rat's ass what anyone thinks. Or go to a party and not have to cling to the two people that I know there.
I'm never leaving the house again. I will eat only Campbell's soup and order DVD box sets over the internet. I already have a cat. I'm one step ahead of the game.
It's because the answer is 42, and I can't do math.