Well, there’s never a day off from the drama.
Today I had a pretty good day, I’ve calmed down from the stress of the weekend, I was invited out with some work mates but decided to stay in and be a good girl (ie… nobody particularly interesting or fun was going out) and I went home and I bought some fried rice at Ho Ho’s and a bottle of wine and some fruit and I made mulled wine and ate chinese and watched Seinfeld.
I took my shoes off and put on pyjamas. I was almost ironically looking for my slippers when I banged my foot into the goddamn coffee table and I’ve done it so many times before, I barely notice, but I do remember it being a particularly bad one this time. I remembered having read something about how crying out and swearing diminishes pain somewhat, so I bounded around the room clutching my foot and medinically screaming CUNTING MOTHERFUCKER CUNT ASSFUCK ARSE BITCH CUNT ASSHOLE FUCKING BITCH CUNT.
I seem to favour the word cunt in times of great pain.
Then I sat down and watched some more Seinfeld and then noticed my tobacco was going to be finished soon so I procrastinated and considered giving up smoking again today but eventually I put on some pants and shoes and went outside, walked a minute and a half to the petrol station and bought tobacco.
While waiting for the guy to figure out how to scan my reese’s peanut butter cups, I noticed they were selling these stupid Simpsons car air fresheners. One of them had a picture of Edna Krabapple on it and the words “divorced, bitter and eligible” on it. The sight of that depressed me somewhat, but mostly I just wished I could drive so someone could buy me that as a mean gift and I would find it really funny.
And then I walked home and when I got in and sat down and ate all 6 peanut butter cups and watched another seinfeld, I wanted to get up and reheat my mulled wine but HOLY MOTHERFUCKING ASS CUNT, my toe is in excrutiating pain.
I felt it and its too sore, it makes me feel sick to move my toe. It’s my second little toe. I can’t stand on it, I can’t walk, I can’t wiggle it. It hurts goddammit.
I broke my collarbone years ago and everyone thought I was being a big pussy, and so I just put up with it for a week and continued partying for it was the summer. And then eventually I just had to go to the hospital and that wasn’t fun, and this is a comparable pain although on a smaller scale.
So there we go, I can’t afford a single sick day more and I’ve broken my fucking toe.
and in case you disbelieve me about it being broken, trust me, I googled the shit out of it. It’s broken. End of.
I also can’t afford a doctor. May have to cry to my mother and see if she will foot the bill…. fucking shit balls.
I didn’t need this right now. And I didn’t even jump off a wall drunk or run in front of a taxi drunk, or do anything drunk. I’m barely drunk at all, I had had very little wine at this point.
I realised recently that I am a drama queen and whether i want it or not, drama comes a knockin on my door. I guess if I don’t like it, I certainly don’t avoid it. But I just wanted a nice night in on my own with some wine and seinfeld. A wine and sein. And instead… well yeah I got that, but I also got to lie in bed with a scarf wrapped around my toe while my friends laugh at me on facebook because no one cares when you break your toe and people think it’s funny when I walk into furniture.