Varying Degrees of Pain

Life hurts right now. In order of least to most painful....

I have my annual review today. Should be awkward, yet virtually painless. I already saw the form, and it says I'm doing fine. Which is incredible to me, considering that I'd say that in any given week, I only do about 15 minutes of real, actual work. (Anyone get my movie reference?) So once it's over, I don't have to worry again for a year. Boss Lady hates them more than I do, so it shouldn't be any worse than ripping off a band-aid.

I got sunburned yesterday from being outside at the SC Peach Festival. It was about 4,000 degrees outside, and I thought Sammy and I might die of heat exhaustion. If it weren't for the peach ice cream in a waffle cone, I doubt I would be living to tell the tale. The cool thing is, my sunburn doesn't hurt. Although, maybe my rage is distracting those nerve endings...

GI-tract issues. Don't really need to say any more about that...it is probably from stress. Or vicodin.

Remember my cavity? Something isn't right about it, because I have tooth sensitivity. I can't eat on that side of my mouth. When I bite down, it hurts! It will probably be back to tha dentist for me...oh joy.

Total lack of appetite. This is a clear sign I am not happy.

Every person who has walked in here today apparently drank Stupid Juice for breakfast. Right after eating a big bowl of Annoy-ios. (Get it? Like Cheerios?) It's the breakfast of champions. I can't deal with morons when I'm pissed off. I imagine ripping their heads off, kind of like Ally McBeal-style.

I worked out on Sunday. (Good for relieving stress! But apparently not good enough!) However, my triceps still feel like they have been shredded. No amount of stretching seems to soothe them. And I don't want to take pain killers. Although, on second thought...

Shit, I just realized I left my smokes at home. Pisser.

Shit, I have a guilt trip for even having a pack of them in my possession. I promise this is only a temporary bad habit.

Last night, I was at K's parents' house. I burned THE GREATEST pissed-off CD ever created on Earth. For some reason, it is blank, starting at track 10. The 5 tracks that didn't take were the ones I really needed to hear. K can re-burn it for me, but not until Sunday. Ironically, the CD meant to be used as therapy for my rage has only added to it.

Ok, this one doubles as a Public Service Announcement. I went out with K on Monday night. To get away from my anger and pain. To try and unwind, get my mind off things, have fun, maybe flirt with some men. I thought it would be a good idea to pop a vicodin, just so I wouldn't have to deal for a few hours. I also picked up a pack of smokes. (Yes, I am that upset.) To improve my mood and make me relax. I ended up learning a VERY important mathematical equation: Vicodin + nicotine = barf. All in all, I barfed 3 times. Only the last two rounds made it to the bathroom. I am too embarrassed to say where the first round wound up.

Yes, I realize I just ended that sentence with a preposition. Well, to all of you who are annoyed by this, I have an interjection for you: Bite me!!!!! :) ha ha. Seriously, it is bugging me too. But not enough to go back and change it. Please bear with. Argh! I did it again!

The next most painful thing was that since K and I had to leave when I began feeling sick, we didn't stay out very long. Just an hour . Which is really annoying because I had on a gorgeous new pair of shoes and my hair and makeup looked good. We both looked good. So I wasted an outfit. And we didn't last long enough for the two cute guys to come over and talk to me. They were checking me out (according to K), and I had just made eye contact, complete with smiles. Then, right as we were leaving, a guy was offering K a shot. And she had to decline because I was the asshole who has to run to drugs in order to soothe her pain, and therefore, was barfing her brains out. (Hey, most people would have gotten drunk in this instance. You have your drugs, I have mine.)

The sad thing is, if I could go back and do it all over again, I probably would have done the same thing. Only, I would have given the cute guys my number before leaving for heaving.

But by far, the most painful thing in my life right now is very quiet: the silence of my cell phone and the realization that I may have gotten exactly what I asked for from him.