I failed. I skipped the White Party. Social anxiety got the best of me, and I didn't go. Oy vey, I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I think I replay a worst case scenario in my mind and then talk myself out of social situations. Like, I go, and don't know anyone, and nobody talks to me, so I stand in the corner by myself all night, and then I spill a drink on my white outfit, and am forced to ride the subway home covered with a drink from a party that I shouldn't have gone to. See what I did there...? Of course I don't want to go to that lame party!! This is totally me:
I have never pretend-played with my phone more in my life than I have at social functions where I don't know anyone. J was gone all weekend again, and once again I watched far too much crappy TV, and daydreamed about being back home near my family, instead of here, where I know more dogs than people. And to that point, you know that things have gone south when the longest coversation you have over the course of the weekend is with a dog. Popeye is fully aware that I would like to lose about 20 pounds, thought Season 2 of Glee was disappointing, and that I would for real make out with Tom Hardy if given the opportunity. I am sure these are his feelings on the matter:
Overall, I am just waiting and hoping for something in life to make a turn for the better......getting a job would be awesome, as would getting pregnant, making more friends, or being able to swing a trip back home. I am not depressed, but I am definitely verging on crazy....
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