Nothing, really, just general feeling terrible about myself thoughts. My boyfriend of two years (with whom I had frustratingly vivid visions of a future) broke up with me two weeks ago. We've been doing the long-distance thing for a while, and had plans to move in together this summer.... Now we don't. I'm the ijot who put her life on hold for the man I loved. I'm the absolute muffin who knew he was unreliable and immature and prone to bouts of frozen-feet. I'm going to Other Country at the end of May to get my stuff back. I kind of hate everything right now, except cigarettes and whiskey, that is. (Possible hilarious musings on how whiskey is what people drink when they really hate themselves may follow.)
And since I hate everything, I'd like to add that my ceiling is raining spiders. The nasty little buggers that bite and make you swell up and turn funny colors. Like I really needed to feel even worse about myself, now I'm being bitten by spiders and turning funny colors.
So what did Lucy learn? Dating English boys leads to insomnia, nicotine addiction, and spider rain. Aren't those the first signs of the apocalypse?
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