Monday, February 15, 2010

That time I started.

This is the part where I first move one of the cat's tails from in front of my screen.

Okay. This is now the part where I say, I'm 20 years old and I'm what most would call a "loser."
How do I know this? Well, because if I looked at myself objectively, which I don't do often because I just get sad, then I would say, you are a deadbeat loser, Chelsea.

I'm 20 years old, I don't have a job and I don't go to school (anymore). I kind of have friends, but I'm sorry to say I feel bad calling them my friends because I'm not sure they would call me the same.
This is the loser in my thinking.
Regardless, my friend count is low. I don't have a best one.
I also, do not have a boyfriend, nor have I since I dumped the last one because I decided that dating scum of the earth was not for me, regardless of the Tiffany ring in his possession for me.
Apart from that, the last kiss I had was when I was under the influence...at a party.
And finally, the last guy to show interest in me was my first boyfriend who subsequently dated my best friend and still after a few years could not understand why I was. Not. Interested.

Those are the hard and fast, facts. The cake of my loserdom. The icing would probably consist of my insanely close relationship with my cat and my affinity for watching television and eating crap.
And maybe the fact that I don't do laundry until I run out of underwear.

But suprisingly, even despite ALL of this for the most part I like myself. I really do, that's not to say I don't hit a point almost every day where I lament who I am as a person and wonder why I am alive and why anyone talks to me and how I can live with myself. Because that does happen, but not as much as the "I'm funny, I'm not ugly, my cat is super cool" parts do.

I have this belief that if I want something enough I will get it, most of the time. I don't apply to jobs I don't want to work at as much as that makes my mom want to revert to spanking me I just don't want to work somewhere I hate when the odds are I'm going to end up somewhere I did want to work at, and hate it.
I don't know if this comes to guys...I suppose that's something that I'll have to get back to you on because I'm currently in the ballgame and the score is pretty even.
Or something.


And I'll have YOU know that Express will probably call me sometime this week to schedule an interview. So put that in your pipe and smoke it.


No comments: