I am having, what I have quite aptly dubbed, Phissues this week. I'm seriously over all the fuckers out there and just wish to god you'd all leave me the fuck alone.
Angsty Issues - Of course, over guys. Problem has been solved, at cost to me, with residual angst. And no results yet.
Body issues - I hate my body with a leaden passion that drowns out everything else. I hate my big, flabby butt. But nowhere near as much as I loathe my thighs and my disgusting pasty, soggy belly. My cheeks and lips are too red, my head is too long, I have lip hair and a puffy jawline and a fat neck. I hate my bingo wing, my elbows are scaly, my hands are dry, the quicks of my fingers are cracking and bleeding. My fingers are long and knobbly. I have pimples on my face and butt which will not go away and ingrowns in my bikini line. I have stretch marks. I especially hate them. My calves are too fat, I have rolls on the inside of my knees and my feet are too lumpy. My torso is short and squat. And I have short legs. But I don't appear as short as my body would have everyone believe. That's because I have a massive long head. I have backfat, which means I can't wear singlets. Not that a fat lard like me should. My boobs sag. As much as I've said I love them and they're perfect, they're not. They are hideous. And I have rolls of fat on my ribs that about an a cup size. There's not much to love about me right now. I do like my eyes, but I am beginning to get wrinkles around them. Am I too young for botox?
Family Issues - Shit has hit the fan. And we're not talking cow shit proprtions. Oh no. That would be lucky. We are talking about whale with gastro proportions here. Its my dad's 60th in 2 weeks time. I had arranged to take time off (6 weeks into a new job, not even out of probationary period) to head down. I decided to drive. 6 hours transit each way at a cost of $300 total, versus 8 hours transit at a cost of about $200 tops, including meals and drinks. Plus the freedom to pack whatever I want into the car and not be limited by space. I had spoken to several people about getting them stuff for when I come back. Excitement all round.
Until yesterday. Dad has decided to go to Melbourne for his birthday. 2 weeks before it actually happens. This adds another 3 hours each way, and over $100 to my trip. My alternative is to fly. But the only way I can get cheap fares this close to flying is to travel to Avalon (1 hour out of Melb, landing in a paddock with a tin shed for a hangar) and then either get someone to pick me up (which I've been told they will not do), or catch a bus back into Melb. Adding another hour or more to my trip, and another $35 each way for the bus. And with my brokeness, I that's too much to handle.
So I can't go down. And shit has hit the fan over that. I am ready to go tell all members concerned to just go fuck themselves and leave me alone permanently. I have turned off my phone and intend to leave it that way for some time.
Gym Issues - I'm the fat, smelly girl who farts in pilates. My trainer is cute, happy and stink free.
Head Issues - I'm tired. I desperately just need to sleep my life away and I'm so ready to do it too. I've had enough and I just want it all to go away. My only outlet is the gym, where I go and repulse people. I exercise til I'm ready to vomit, or cry, or collapse. My legs are perpetually numb but I still hurt inside.
Money Issues - I'm broke. So broke. I lost my train ticket yesterday. The only reason I had enough money to get a replacement was because my brother had transferred his portion of Dad's birthday gift across to me. I now have less than $10 in the bank, and about that in my wallet. And am furiously awaiting payday tomorrow.
Teeth Issues - Root canal work over and done, but I need another three fillings, urgently. Cue extra money woes here.
Work Issues - the honeymoon period is over. O.V.E.R over. I'm tired, pushing exhaustion. Arguments were had at work and a senior workmate has flat out told me she can't stand people like me who go out and get blink drunk and then rock up to work, incapable. I'm fucking sorry. All I wanted was New Years Day off. The last time I even went to the pub was over a month ago and I was home by 12.30. The time before when I got drunk was probably New Year. The last time I got absolutely maggoty and rocked up at work unable to do anything (but I still fucking did) was when the guy who got me pregnant started dating my then best friend.