Happy Homecumming!

Arrived home today and promptly burst into tears of self pity.

I lugged my suitcases up the stairs, suitcases full of clothes I am utterly sick of and that need to be washed… and all the posessions that have been all my posessions for the past month, dispersed and grotty….

I got in the door to find a surprisingly tidy and spacious apartment. All my stuff I missed… and clearly didn’t need.

A phone call from my dad and boss, immediately bombarding me with things that need to be done and work and requests and nagging me to get a lawyer for my divorce and I thought we decided I didn’t need one? Ah he’s probably right but he was really not sensitive to me in his choice of moment to unleash all of this responsability down the phone.

I hung up and flung myself drammatically on the bed… no, that’s a lie. No one was watching, there was no need for me to be drammatic.

I just hung up and sat on the edge of the bed and cried salty tears that were completely pointless, no one saw so no one would understand how utterly miserable I was.

Felt very, very emo for a bit. Mopen my way onto facebook. One friend online- I unleashed some of my misery on him, he shook it into positivity and threw it back at me.

I was a little annoyed at first to have my depression so trivially sorted, but yeah… it faded away quicker than you can say “oh yeah there was also a live spider in my sink, but I flushed him down the drain” and then I just felt silly and emotional. Anyway I perked up, ate a big bag of jelly sweets that were meant to be for my sisters. (Incidentally, I can’t sleep now, awesome.)

Then I remembered something really cool. Like, I’ve been on holiday for the last month. Which was fan fucking tastic. But… I’ve been in other people’s houses and other people’s beds or worse, in my old bedroom in my old single bed….

And that means, I haven’t had a proper, decent, drawn out, private wank in like a month.

I perked up. Oh it was going to be goooood. I opened dintoube and had a rummage around… sheesh, some pretty gross topics with some pretty gross thumbnails. I’m not even going to tell you what I wound up watching, because even though I’m open about this shit to some extent, I do still have some veil of privacy. What happens in sick part of brain, stays in sick part of brain. Oh shit no, now you think I like really nasty shit. I don’t. Just medium, normal levels of nasty. I presume. Because how do you know what’s normal if EVERYONE is lying about it? Everyone is. I mean look how often I talk about fapping, and I’m still withholding.

Anyway.

Suffice it to say, I haven’t enjoyed myself by myself for a long time. That was a seriously good ‘un.

I don’t mean to be overly gross (it just happens) but my leg went half numb, half pins and needles-y afterwards. I just had to share.

That’s what I’m talking about.

I feel my love for my apartment surging up in the most unexpected way.

I want to just have this apartment all to myself and then it just not be here in Italy. Aw damn work in the morning, I don’t want this shit.

Also, I’m giving up drinking.

It needs to be done. AND NO, I have never said this before, I’m not even entirely hung over any more. So don’t think it’s like when people are all, oooh I never want to drink again, but it’s bullshit. I’m serious. There’s a bottle of wine in my kitchen, nice wine, really nice wine, and I’m not even THINKING about opening it.

I’m sorry I may never leave the house again now if I’m not drinking and my posts may wind up just being about things that may or may not be dead insects in my home, and how I FEEL about that, and stuff…. but yeah.

Need a clear head.

So yeah, that was a little microcosm of my normal mood swings…

You may notice I went from complete dejection and depression, to total elation and post- solo- coital bliss… in the space of about 2 hours.

Is that a thing? Am I bipolar? I know I’m not schizophrenic, it’s the only disorder I didn’t test highly for when I did a whole bunch of crazy online tests for different kinds of crazy, just to prove how full of shit most people are when they claim to have disorders they also diagnosed online.

Also, maybe it’s just me being miss negativity, but I can already feel the shitty Italian vibes around me. Oh it’s definitely me, but also, not entirely. I have to emerge out into this world of smiling dipshits tomorrow, and be one of them.

On the train, the ticket inspector came by and I was sitting on my suitcase with the other smaller case propped beside me, in the bit between carriages, not blocking anyone’s way. The inspector comes up all accusingly, and is like “have I checked your ticket yet?”

And I’m like, no, and start reaching in my bag.

He looks at me and is like, well I have to see it! But as if he’s implying that I’m trying to get away with something, like I paid for and validated a ticket only to sit in the corridor on a hard case because their shitty trains don’t have anywhere to put your luggage and I’m somehow pulling the wool over his eyes?

I show him my ticket and he’s like “uhhh you should go sit down, there are seats free.” and I’m all, yeah but where do I put my suitcases?

And he’s all, overhead… and there are these tiny, miniscule, measly little racks over peoples heads that would just about fit the little suitcase if I could lift it over my head which I can’t without bludgeoning someone over the head, but there is no fucking way the big one would fit. I have no upper body strength, and their trains suck.

He’s like, accusing me or something. I bristle but just shrug and he goes on his way.

Then we get to our destination and this woman, after crowding me out of my sitting position about half an hour in advance because she seems to think I won’t get off at the last stop so she has to hover in my face until I get up, and then the train takes ages to get into the station, so I’m stuck standing with this bitch in my face for ages…. before getting off quickly and getting out of everyones way with my cases…. then we march on to the escalator to get out of the station, and the stupid cunt who was all up in my grill earlier gets to the top of the escalator and just stands there, blocking everyone, rooting for her phone or something, and we have a fucking pile up on top of her, and I have to basically plough over her and she gives me a hurt look.

And then I get a taxi home because it’s pissing rain, and I saw him overcharge me but fuck it I don’t even care any more. Asshole talked on his mobile the whole journey, not even hands free, I was in a rage…

But yeah… I’m pretty angry again.

But it’s cool.

Porn will fix it, maybe.

 

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