I think I'm about ready to deal with you. Not today, though. I think I have some things to say, and I think we can come to some understanding about my relinquishing some control. But before I deal with that:
RICKETS?????? REALLY???????? I'm not homeless, I don't live in a third world country, yet I have severe rickets. Look it up sometime. It's pretty pathetic. That's what I get for choosing to have Jagermeister for dinner and Bloody Beers for breakfast on a regular basis. One of these days I'm gonna be walking down the street, and that creepy bearded guy from Save the Children is going to sidle up alongside me and ask people to contribute pennies a day to cure my malnutrition. FML.
I just can't believe I fucked myself up so very royally. I mean I guess I can... I never do anything small. I do everything in life in a huge, loud, excessive, obsessive/compulsive way. So I guess it stands to reason that I can't just go, "Huh. I think I'll stop drinking," and quietly hit up AA. NOoooooooooo. I have to totally fry my liver and wreck my metabolic system, which will take months to improve. If I can't stay away from booze, I will be strong-armed into in-patient treatment.
RICKETS?????? REALLY?????????? I felt like such a boob when I looked up Vitamin D deficiency. I'm a total retard for letting my life get so out of hand.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment