A couple weeks ago I posted this photo on Instagram and my friend Jacob commented on it, saying, "you are on one lately, I love it."
I thought to myself, "Yes sir I AM on one lately, and it feels just great."
I then thought, "maybe I should stop being on one?" and immediately was like NAWW that's not necessary, I haven't been out of control, I've just been doing a ton of new things and I feel great. EVERYTHING IS GREAT.
Saturday I woke up with a fake tattoo on my arm that I had no recollection of licking and sticking, and a pile of cats on my chest. I reached for my phone only to discover a late-night conversation I had with someone (who had far more patience with me than he should have had, honestly) that was complete and total psychobabble. No idea what I was trying to say. No idea how the night ended (although I was soon informed and it wasn't my shining moment, that's for sure). No idea WHAT THE FUCK I was doing or thinking.
Needless to say I am no longer on one. You win, world. I had a good 2.5 month streak of craziness with almost zero breaks, but I'm ready to calm the fuck down for a while. I'm always way harder on myself than other people are on me, but I can't help it. I dooo nooot like feeling out of control.
Anyway, paint. I ended up going with Blacktop by Benjamin Moore, and even the lady mixing it said, "this is a REALLY nice black!" I agree. It's rich and it looks as fabulous as black paint can possibly look. I sent my room into that Apartment Therapy contest this afternoon, so we'll see if they decide I'm worthy of a post or any votes at all. I started feeling all mine-isn't-as-good-as-yours after submitting it and looking at everyone else's rooms, but then I had to remind myself that I have my own style, I should not try to be like everyone else. Junior in
I'll post photos of the room after Apartment Therapy approves/denies my submission. Cause I didn't read the rules of the contest, but there's probably some rule that says they have first dibs on pictures. Who knows.
My Uncle died on Sunday morning. We weren't close and there's a lot of things about his life that I'm unclear on, but after so many years of not being well, I hope he's in a better place now.
And to you, if you read it, I know you think that I don't care, but that's not true and I'm glad we're doing a little bit better.
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I'm glad that tattoo is fake. When I saw the photo on Instagram I was like "what? that's hideous" - but I wasn't going to say anything because that's just rude. But yay, it's fake.
ReplyDeleteScary that you don't remember much. I hate that. That's only happened to me once and I sometimes freak out when I think about it. There's a chunk of my life missing and that freaks me out. I left my garage door open, my shoes were outside. I feel like I was drugged. Ahhh...I don't want to think about it.
I'm a lightweight now and rarely go out drinking. I'm such an old lady, but whatever.
it was fake, but i'm gonna be honest and say that i'll still probably end up with a full sleeve someday.
Deletehahaha I don't have to be very intoxicated to black out, so it happens to me a lot, but only in 5-10 minute increments and I rarely do anything stupid. It doesn't really bother me or scare me unless I have nights like Friday where I lose HOURS. Woops.
Getting off one when you're on one is really quite a difficult feat to achieve. I sometimes wish I knew how.
ReplyDeleteTrust me I'm not having a very easy time with it lol. I'm going a little bit stir crazy.
DeleteI get chatty when I get drunk too, and end up texting people the most ridiculous things. Sometimes going through them can be entertaining, but other times I just have to shake my head and wonder WHY.
ReplyDeleteAlso, kitties!
Hahaha you sound an awful lot like me. There was a looot of head shaking goin on this weekend...
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