I hate when you have no one to blame but yourself. It’s so much more fun to blame someone else for your problems. But today it’s just me. And its shitty. All for selfish reasons, just going with it in the moment against all that is right and holy. I tied the anchor to my own foot for this one. Am I surprised? Probably not, seeing as the past 4 or 5 weekends have been renditions of this epitome of fuck up. Maybe not really, but let’s just say Saturday nights are never complete memories. Nothing unusual for any of us I’m sure but you know that saying “I’m never going to drink again” that lost it’s meaning a really long time ago. It’s almost taboo to even think of saying it in this house. We’ve all gotten so mangled so often that we have just come to accept our fate of a brutal hangover headache and BTL’s on everything bagels at Timmy’s at the Civic. Routine can be comforting you know.
Anyway, so I messed up I suppose. I think the best tactic in a situation as such is to own up to your mistake and repeat “I’m an idiot”. At least it proves that you’re not dancing around the blame trying to save your ass. Speaking of ass, I’m burnt. So very toasted. Summer and Spring are on their way and I couldn’t wait to stop being so translucently pale so I took it upon myself to fake n’ bake. Classy I know. And healthy! Yeah, well I haven’t done it since grade 11 which is a decent break in between but I know the risks. And still decide that temporary happiness that is me with a tan trumps cancerous UV rays. It’s all about priorities people.
I haven’t post scripted in a while. Happy I did though. I wish I could by pass the next 8 days and be done third year, be done with this, be back in Toronto with my Pontiac and my home friends. Time machine man, I’m telling you.
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