I just don't know what to do with myself.
All I want to do is pull a Streisand from The Way We Were and call him cause he's my best friend. I never understood that part of the movie till now.
I'm less sad as I was a week ago and my crying spurts have been fewer and far between. But let's look at the past 24 hours shall we, and see what exactly I've been doing?
Last night I couldn't get my friends to muster any energy to go out in the cold, so I ended up going to bed before 9PM, literally- just to pass the time, with the decision in my head that there's nothing left for my in the city.
And then this morning came:
I cleaned my apartment,
took out the trash,
went to the gym for awhile,
read the new Cosmo,
took a long shower,
put away my laundry,
changed a lightbulb in the living room,
went grocery shopping *for the first time in 10 months*
(which doesn't take as long as a I remember)
put away the groceries,
watched an episode of the OfficeUK,
made dinner plans with a friend for later,
some how managed to rip a whole in the crotch of my favorite pants,
and now blogging.
I have a novel sitting next to me called "Committed"
Can we discuss the irony?