I don’t fear becoming a crazy cat lady because I’m allergic

This whole being grown-up and having a real job thing is exhausting. No wonder people with careers AND families stop having sex. Wow.

But I’ll tell you one thing: I’m starting to think I need to work on my commitment-phobia. I went to the Great American Backrub today to relieve some of the stress I’ve been building up in my shoulders, and there would be a lot less New Age music involved in massages if I just had a boyfriend around.

Also, my least favourite coworker is single, and awfully bitter about it. She’s got a good thirteen years on me, but for many reasons (not the least of which is that she’s making me MENTAL), I do not want to end up like her. I am generally sure that I can have a fulfilling and interesting life as a single woman, but when faced with particular people who haven’t managed to do so, I get a little scared.

So, I think I’m going to get a pet. Like, a fish or something. I’ve managed to keep a plant alive since I moved to the city, so maybe forging a relationship with an animal is the next step.

still alive!

My week and weekend of hell are finally over! But I’m still brain-dead from it all–regular posting will re-commence tomorrow. Bate your breath!

I can’t blame my state on a hangover, sadly

My brain hurts, and it’s not because my head recently lost most of its protective covering. I had a brutal thirteen hour day today, and I’m a shell of a woman.

I did manage to go out for a few pints to celebrate my Irishness last night. Er, make that my faux-Irishness. Mainly, I was just thanking whatever gods are listening for the fact that I no longer work in an Irish pub. I met up with two guys I haven’t seen in years; we went to high school together, so naturally we compared notes on who’s gotten hitched and/or ruined their lives.