Postcards From the Edge

If I didn't know myself better, I'd say I was a couple steps from losing it all together.

Fortunately, I do know myself better, and I've already lost it completely, any way.

My life isn't objectively shitty, but I am kind of pissed off with it at the moment. I plan on making some major moves towards sanity very shortly.

First of all, I'm resigning from fulltime hospital nursing, and going per diem. Maybe then I won't look an anorexic Buchenwald survivor and actually do something with my days off rather than curl up in the fetal position and spout angry tantrums at the world. As the French say (or used to say, back in 1985, probably, you can never tell with slang you learn in the classroom, because it's probably outdated and went the way of big hair and ugly Modrian-inspired sweaters) "Change le disc." or maybe "Changez le disc." Or whatever. I hate French.

Second, I'm moving back South. I can't stand the Northeast. I wish I could be more eloquent about that statement, but right now, I'm so furious with my latest encouter with Yankee riffraff bastards, I can't. This is the shittiest place I've ever lived in my life, and so far, pretending Everything Is All Right is losing it's charm as well.

Third, this vanilla rum I'm drinking is very tasty and smooth, you should try it if you are partial to things like that.

Okay, so enough of being proactive, kind of, let's go back to our daily dose of bitching. Oh wait, I was bitching.