over it. so over it.

i'm going all e.e. cummings in this business. this post will contain profanity and a lack of grammar, and if you know me at all, you'll know that these two things are sure signs of my deteriorating mental state.

i feel like that guy in greek mythology who was punished by the gods and forced to roll a boulder up a mountain, only to watch it roll down again; or that other guy, the one who pissed some god off and had a bird peck his gizzard out on a daily basis. i'm on the losing team, and it fucking sucks. it's groundhog day for me, every single day. i'm a hyperbole, a roller coaster unto myself, no happy medium with me, and today we are in the pit, my friend. the ninth circle. it's everything. everything. everything. because everything is so fucking intertwined. it affects me to no end.

i was so out of my skin bothered today that i went to the mall -gasp! yes, i went to the mall. i was going to buy some really cute gray velvet pants at Old Navy, but the line was full of tourists, the kind that buy 80 articles of clothing for $3.99 and want to check the price on EVERY single item. i put the pants back, and went to the banana republic outlet. i tried on a bunch of stuff, everything ridiculously expensive, and dark, dark dark. black is not my color. there were some pants that fit me really well and would've been great for work, but they were $60 and that was too much. until, i saw that they were 50%. worth it, so i bought two pairs. since i've gained weight, i don't fit into any of my pants. in september, i bought two pairs at new york and company (with one of those coupons that give you a huge discount, like if you spend $75, they give you a $30 discount). i wear them all the time, but they fit horribly. the crotch is two inches beneath where my actual business is. i have no idea what i was thinking when i purchased them. anyway, even though i bought those BR pants, they didn't make me happy. it made me even pissier because let's face it, work pants are WORK pants. BORING.

and i wish i could just fast-forward my life a la click and see where i am in six months. has anything changed? am i content? am i moving forward? because right now i'm stuck in a mire of crap. i'm 32 years old and i feel like i'm so behind. like the starting gun went off and i was tying my shoe laces and adjusting my sports bra, and wtf? i'm behind!

and jeez, i feel like such a whiny bitch. my mental dialogue is on fucking repeat. repeat. repeat. and there are people that have it so much worse. but i swear to you, today i just don't give a shit.

i'm going to look at the victoria's secret resort catalog and see if that makes me feel better.