pissy and pitiful

I am totally not in the mood to cook, but I've got a gazillion dollars in produce in there from my trip to the Farmer's Market. (I should add that thought to my mental list I keep making on thoughts/ideas that need words (the opposite of giving a definition?). Produce-going-bad-guilt? Maybe that should be… defreshguilt? I dunno.) SO much food that needs to be cooked. What the fuck was I thinking?

Ramble, ramble. I am SO tired. And I did nothing at work, nothing. Okay, a thirty minute meeting on tchotchkes for an employee gift to celebrate (I kid you not) a bedding collection (a… booklight! an… aromatherapy candle!) for a hotel chain. And then an image search — stock, now — of a model in bra and panties (it's lingerie) in her twenties. Who looks [nationality]. Who is smiling or laughing or in some way looking sweet, mischievous and playful. Sexy… but not slutty! And blonde! And… have to see the product. Oi vey.

I sound like an old Jewish lady tonight.

Anyway, that's all I did. Oh, also tried to refute a really bad client idea (this client takes EVERYTHING to focus group. I've heard of design by committee and I've seen that (the CEO's wife doesn't like green! the author's wife is a designer and has sent over HER version of the cover! everything damn thing ever at the Large Beverage Company!) but never design by focus group. Horrifying: the group likes the imagery style from Group D, the color palette from Group B, and *god* so on. It's blowing me away. Then have to work with our sweet-useless-perfectly-groomed-lady-of-a-certain-age of an account executive… who, y'all… she comes to US to ask about deadlines. My coworker and I look at each other in bewilderment before saying things like "but she's the one talking to the client. Isn't that HER job?!".

But, yeah, actual design work? Not so much. Lots of time sulking about not having plans for the 4th. Which… why the fuck do I not know of any parties? I got nothin'.

I feel very low and friendless. And it SUCKS being single on holidays. Geez, fuck, every damn friend I have here has a boyfriend but me — seriously — and they all have fun plans and the rest I haven't heard from. This is a full on temper tantrum, bitches! Bitch. Moan. Whine, whine, whine. I know I sound pitiful, but I'm not only pitiful — I'm also pissy. And pissy about being so pitiful. Dude.

And I have to image search chicks in bras. Skinny girls! And I pulled out my fat clothes yesterday! *flinging self across bed and punching pillow*

Whaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!

Okay, I'm done with the whining. Thanks for listening. I'm going to go fry some vegetables.

Maybe I'll drink a glass of wine, too.

(Oh, and my tooth hurts. Amd still doing freelance; meeting about it tomorrow. H is going to make me get on top of my house (long story). I have another ant infestation and it's making me kind of nuts. Anyway.)

xo
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