I can tell you that I am most certainly NOT drunk, because although I've had over a half of bottle of wine, I am not drunk.
I did however, have dulce de leche cream ice. Yes, cream ice, not ice cream, because the local little ice store sells it in ice form and OMG why did no one tell me this? All this time, I've settled for coconut, when my crack, dulce de leche is now in an ice form?
So sugar is nice. Really, really nice.
I wanted to write today. I didn't. I wanted to go into the city. I didn't.
I wanted to look nice and I wore my newish heels, the type that don't have anything in the back (like straps or something) and are closed toe and very nice, but I got blisters. So I had to go back home and bitterly be reminded of why I am a social outcast.
Because I don't wear nice, girly shoes ever. I have a fantastic pair of black boots with 3 1/2 inch heels (which makes me really tall, rather than my suckass 5'11" height - why the hell couldn't I have reached that 6 foot margin?) and you know what? I can't walk in them. I mean, I can. I don't fuck up my ankles, but after an hour of walking around in them, I'm perfectly useless.
Meanwhile other women walk around in spike heels. I hate you. I hate all of you.
Fucking hell, I might be a little drunk.
Well, this is a first.
I want to DO something to-morry. I am just so BORED with my life. Nothing, nothing, nothing. I swear, this is how one goes mad. Anyone out there want to something? Coffe? Tea? Me?
Bah. My life sucks.