I told you it would come. My ridiculous summer-long high is officially over.
It's past 2 am. I have to get up in a few hours to work my first of five days in a row. Have I mentioned before that I work 12 hour days? I can't sleep. I'm not even remotely tired. I'm just lying here in bed thinking about how much my life sucks.
This last month seems like one black cloud has been following me. Sure I had fun on my trip- and one of these days I'll post the pictures. But for now I'm just tired of pretending to be happy. I'm tired of pretending that I care. About anything.
Everyone on Facebook it seems has been doing this five (or seven or twelve) days of gratitude. And I feel horrible that I'm so sick of seeing them (even more than I am sick of the freaking ice bucket crap). I don't even read them anymore. Is everyone seriously just so happy? Am I the only one who has a $#!+ life? Or is everyone faking it?
I'm tired of the 'OMG I have the perfect kids/husband/house/job' posts. I feel like I'm the only one who works and everyone else is on permanent vacation. Can't someone- just once- post about how much they hate the whole world? Then maybe I won't feel like the only person on the planet who isn't brimming over with joy every day. Am I the only one who just doesn't care anymore? I'm at a dead end job that is so brainless a monkey could do it. I don't care. My house is a ghetto disaster. I don't care. Some days I lie on the couch for 15 hours at a time in my underwear watching tv because I just don't have the drive to do anything. *anything.* I've gained like 10 pounds in the last month because I Just. Don't. Care.
I'm going to die old, fat, ugly and alone. And I don't care.