Over my head


We are already in March. Sixty days of the 360 done. Which leaves us with three hundred days of living for the 2016 year. And all I want right now is tea and sympathy. Maybe a hug. And a few cuddly nuzzles.

Yesterday was the State Primary, also known as SuperTuesday, and so I did my patriotic duty and voted for Bernie Sanders.


Didn’t matter anyway: Texas won to Clinton, but at least I tried. And that is what matters anyway. I am glad for that, at least.

Monday I mentioned that I had an interview. A while later after I posted, I got a call that it was rescheduled for Tuesday, so I went then. Despite my high hopes of getting hired, the interview didn’t pan out the way I wanted to. They loved me and my attitude, my work ethic; however, they need a driver’s license. And since I don’t have one, well, the thing fell apart. They did say that the moment I got a license I’d be hired on the spot, so there’s a new objective for me to reach, hm?

There is this feeling of suppressed anger going on with me at the moment, a feeling that deadlifts can work out. I tried going with alcohol last night, namely this:

I regretted drinking this

But it was far too arrogant for me and easily bested me. First glass got me so wonky that I couldn’t do anything. The taste was bitter as wormwood, which left me wondering why I got it in the first place. Then I remembered and finished the first glass. I was too shnockered to even contemplate the second glass, and I turned in early. At least I didn’t get a hangover like I do with champagne, so there’s a small compensation. Maybe if I drank a second glass, I would. Maybe.


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