Senor Cuervo, ouch.

Tonight was rough.

It started out with me taking a shower at my new place and having the shower curtain rod collapse on me. Guess the tiles don't like the tension rod.. so, that was the beginning.

I get to work, and all is well for a while.. most of the night actually.. did a bunch of shots, turned a bunch down.. and then one of my fellow bartenders got way too drunk, and everyone on my bar caught hell for it, even though the rest of us were FINE. So we all got our asses chewed out for someone else's incapacity to know their own limit. Awesome.

So I get back to my apartment to pick up my stuff before going back to Jersey (my bed isn't at the apt. yet) and I happen upon this plastic container with a bunch of stuff in it.. stuff I [thought I cleverly] hid from myself 2 years ago. Valentine's Day Card did me in. It was the most romantic thing I've read in so long.. in so few words, and I just lost it. I just bawled my eyes out without warning.. there were no sniffles, it was just an immediate Niagara Falls of tears. I don't know why we save this stuff.. is it to one day hope to look back and laugh.. or is it to look back and torture ourselves? I never knew he had the capacity to be that romantic.. especially in such few words. This was an hour ago, and my heart is still racing a little. Good thing my dog was here to wag his tail and be happy to see me when I got home, because I've been kind of a pathetic womanly mess since then. I wish I could stop feeling so bad for myself and just get the fuck over this, but for some reason, I just can't kick it. What.. the fuck. I have broken so many hearts without so much as a sideways glance backwards, yet, somehow.. I cannot kick this. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I've been informed that people apparently stalk my blog. Awesome. I didn't think anyone really knew about this. I never advertised it or anything.. I guess when people wanna find you, they really do their damnedest to find you.. either way, whatever. Hi, what's up. Enjoy the read.

So, I move in 2 days. I'm not ready.. not at all. My mind is so scattered.. I'm just not into this.. it's all working out so perfectly and smoothly for me.. but I'm just not finding myself excited about it. Actually, I'm finding that I'm more sad than anything.

This whole bipolar thing is doing me in like whoa this week.. I'm really excited about my health insurance.. now I can finally get medicine to specifically treat me, rather than just "making do" like I have been for the past 5 years. My life is changing so quickly.. and I feel like it's doing it without me, like I need to play catch up a little. Damn, I am really stressed the hell out.

Another random thought.. I need to stop breaking up with people before my birthday. It seems I always spend an asston of money for my boyfriend/whoever's birthday, and then something happens and I break up with them before my own. Someone needs to take me the hell out for my birthday.. maybe I'll just make Chip do it. Sigh. School needs to start so I can stop thinking about how lonely I am.. because I'm pathetic. Maybe I'll met a nice scientist.. or I'll fall madly in love with some hot doctor.. or.. I don't know. The greater good obviously has some sort of fucked up plan for me, so I might as well just roll with it.

I hope I don't get in more trouble for this blog.. apparently people get all bent out of shape when I write shit anymore.. thing is, I don't even know who is upset.. I just know someone hates me. Actually, I bet a lot of people hate me. That sucks. I don't like to be hated. I try to be peaceful with everyone.. but I guess you can't win them all.. especially the bitches who deserve to rot in hell. I think maybe this is the vodka talking now.. I had a bit of that tonight. More tequila than vodka, but vodka still existed somewhere in and amongst those 14 shots.

Holy shit, 14 shots.. I weight 112 pounds, why am I not obliterated?

I should go to bed now. Yeah.. here's hoping I don't get bitched at again.

Cheers, bitches.