Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Paul Varjak: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?
Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?
Paul Varjak: Sure.
Holly Golightly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!
It's a lot like that quote from Breakfast at Tiffany's.
The mixture of the sad blues and the angry reds is so volitile that the only way to even begin to sum them up is to put them together and call them purple.
I can go from having a perfectly delightful melancholy 'tude, to a raging anxiety ridden angry-as-hell bitch in 2 seconds.
My Tiffany's though, is Twilight.
It sounds so stupid, but Twilight and babies bring me down to earth in a heartbeat. Between having Aidan (my brand-spanking-new cousin who turns 2 months old today) and twilight fanfiction (not to mention Eclipse hysteria) I've been able to keep things almost alright.
Yesterday was another story though.
I woke up around 1pm, and only got out of bed because I had to spin by the doctors office to pick up my Castlewood paperwork and get my PPD test checked (as if, we all knew I didn't have fucking tuberculosis).
That was all fine and dandy and shit, only then I get up to find my mom had to leave work because her BFF, is a stupid cow and decided my mom wasn't 'helping her recovery'.
Bullshit.
This chick is mad alchoholic, which I get is rough.
But this bitch has fucked with my mom so much it's not even funny.
She gave my 19 year old sister a water bottle filled with the rummiest rum and coke I've ever smelled, and somehow figured my mom, the women who doesn't drink at all save a wine cooler or two when she goes out with said friend (before there was a problem) is a bad influence.
Fuck that shit.
My mom missed almost 2 days of work getting this bitch in and out of rehab, something my mom had no obligation to do, except for the fact that she loves this bitch and considers her her bff.
Grr, I'm just really pissed, this woman really messed with my mom's head and even though we don't always get along, she's my fucking mom, you don't mess with that shit.
So I was already anxious about this shit, then the doctor, the one I had to pay out of pocket to get a physical, faked more than half of the information on my paperwork.
At this point, I just want to fuck bitches up.
Then I end uo spending the afternoon shopping for my sister and going to my mom's doctor appointment and then wallmart, now it's almost 5 and I'm a ball of tightly wound nerves.
So I come home and pretty much have a fit over nothing.
WTF. I just wanted to come home and curl into bed, but as soon as I get home all I want to do is pout and yell.
Talk about fucking regression.
Whatevers, I've got 50 minutes of class today, then I'm so done with this school shit (until August anyway).
No comments:
Post a Comment