The Break: S01E01

My head is pounding, something awful.  I’m taking unladylike gulps of my wine which is being drained fast out of a mug I was given in high school.  A horrendous purple mug with some girl shaking her booty on it, telling me about “shopping up a storm”. My floor is littered, it looks like a gay pride float made its way through my room-pity the tissues are filled with snot and not with glitter.

45 more days. And even then, what comes after I don’t know. The ridiculously irritating optimist in me has already planned how I’m going to spend my time: more new friends, with family, my studies. Truthfully I plan to be drunk.

Perhaps thats the real reason I should have given him as to why I didn’t want to go to Eminem- because my half full (see the optimism) bottle of vodka will be entertainment enough come Saturday.

Aside from the anger and pain I’m feeling,  with a sudden sense of clarity I realise how awkward a situation I’m in. I know more or less who I am, and what I want. So what am I going to use this 45 days to do if not to find my already found self.

Well first things first,  I don’t want to spiral into clichéd depression. Been there,  done that. I’ve done drugs, whored myself around (when I wasn’t being violated) allowed my academics to slip and destory every good and solid relationship around me. To return to that life would be so inconvenient.

And whilst I’m perfectly aware that I’ve yet to give up my alcoholic tendencies,  for fuck sake I’ve been practically perfect in every other aspect of my life- allow me just one vice,  please! Besides I’m supposed to be up and about at work tomorrow,  pretending everything’s okay (colleagues don’t like the idea of waterworks in the workplace). To do that, I need sleep. To sleep I need drugs (which I just said I’m not about that life) or wine.

So far day 1 sucks, but hopefully its sucky like how Game of Thrones was… we only really started paying attention when Ned Stark died.

I want to sleep now. And not dream of him. Or an ex. Even though he, for now is an ex. For now.

I hope I believe my own mantra: “I always get what I want”.

Serenity. Courage. Wisdom.

Michelle without her Obama
Gemini without her Aries
Water without a bucket (although I prefer air with no fire to excite)

Once again…

Serenity. Courage. Wisdom.


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