Someone to talk to....

Interesting to note my complete and utter lack of excitement for the weekend, being Friday and all, but these last couple of days have left me in a kind of funk. It's a strange feeling, blank and apathetic. I'd like to think that the real cause is my exhaustion from work and school, but I don't have it that bad. I'm just tired of people lying to me for months and excusing themselves with, "I have my reasons." I'm tired of being screwed out of my money. I'm tired of having no friends. I'm tired of my job. I'm tired of the loneliness that threatens to rise up and choke me whenever I go onto FB and see everyone else making plans with their friends for the weekend, while I have to sit home alone for two days.

I mostly feel like kicking myself when these thoughts pass through my head. I have a wonderful husband, my best friend, who takes care of me, but I miss hanging out with girl friends. It'd be so much easier to make friends if I drank, not that I wanna change now. Alcohol smells awful and tastes worse, and one sip gives me a massive headache, so no thanks, but because I don't drink, I'm immediately treated like I cannot handle some people I know who enjoy drinking. They clam up around me when talking about their parties as if I were going to condemn them for drinking. My favorite is when they try and badger me about my choice not to. Why is it so important that I drink? It's like asking, "Why do you like vanilla more than chocolate?" It was so easy to make friends in school. One just needed to ask, "Wanna be friends?" and that was that. Inseparable ever after. It's interesting how fast everyone disappeared as soon as I got married. Apparently NOW I have cooties. Pfft.

Some guy is coming to take the cats tonight and I'm trying not to think to hard about it. I love Sesmu and Bagheera and I'm going to miss the brats. But not the cat boxes. I got to come home last night to the contents of the downstairs cat box strewn over my landing and covering the bathroom floor, but the idiots still went to the bathroom in the now empty-of-litter catbox, so that smell was pleasant. With so many things goin' to crap right now, being a prisoner in my own home is obnoxious. I want to be able to leave doors open and not worry about the cats getting into the rooms and tearing things up or pooping/peeing/puking all over the place. I want the smell out of my house. Ug, but I'm sad that the boys are leaving.

Tomorrow I will read this and laugh, since I'm probably suffering from "pre-woman woes" or something. Blogs are funny. It's like running around and shoving your journal under people's noses and begging them to read it. I don't care that no one reads my blogs. It's purpose is for me to ramble and feel better, so thank you blog. My only friend. :)