Debbie Downer.

Some days, I just can't get over how amazing I am.  I mean, it obviously started early, my overwhelming greatness.  Look at that picture! I am America!  Sometimes I look in the mirror and I say things like, "How did you get so cool?"  or maybe, "Dayum, girl, you got some fries to go with that shake?"  You know, a little padding for my obviously fragile ego.  Some days, I am just unstoppable.

Today, friends, is not one of those days.

Today is one of those days where I mess a lot of things up at work and get really behind for no apparent reason.  One of those days where my boss feels like it's necessary to make excuses for my stupidity, because she likes me and because I am by far the youngest person in my office, and maybe she's got some kind of maternal instinct thing going on? 

All day today, I've been thinking about the past year and how I have spent basically all of it ruining some relationship or another with my self destructive lame-assness.  And for no reason?  My subconscious just likes to ruin things?  I am destined to be a lonely old dog-lady (Can I just say, though, that "dog lady" is infinitely more appealing than "cat lady"?  Cats. Puh-lease!)?

On days like today, I look in the mirror and say things like, "Wow, you're seriously never going to graduate, are you?  You're going to be working this repetitive, meaningless job until they bury you, huh?"  Or possibly, "The reason he went back to Georgia is because you're a gross cow.  Duh," because sometimes the best insults are those made as though you are in the cast of Clueless.

Oh, also, I make (very lighthearted!) "your mom" jokes to almost strangers, and then find out that their mother died while giving birth to them.  Seriously? Give me a break, universe.

I don't know what causes these days, but I am not a fan.

I think the dog park is becoming my place of healing.  It's interesting what a profoundly wonderful affect this place has on me, since I'm human and all.  Something about being surrounded by happy, free-running dogs is just so therapeutic.  So many bellies to scratch!  Also, have you noticed that dog owners (real dog owners, not keep-it-in-the-yard-and-throw-it-table-scraps-because-I'm-a-heartless-asshole dog owners) are some of the happiest, friendliest people in the world?  I suppose it takes a certain personality to be a really good dog-parent.

...and that personality is, of course, "crazy awesome."

Tomorrow will be better.  And so will the weekend.  I am a bridesmaid in one of my very best friend's wedding, after all.  And you know what that means: open bar!  According to the itinerary, I will be drunk for a solid 72 hours. 

That said, I'll see you Monday, Blogpals.