I’m feeling a bit better. I started taking Prozac not long after that post and I’ve been on it a month now. It’s about the time you should start noticing improvement. I’m mostly noticing side effects so far, however. Decreased appetite, decreased dreaming, decreased sex drive. I am feeling better, but it goes up and down. Today I feel happy, but tired, really sleepy. I just took 2.5 mgs of dexamphetamine.
I’m halfway through cleaning the fish tank. I would like to get the skirting boards painted in the back bedroom but it is really hot today already. 29 degrees. ugh summer why you do dis 🙁
Since logging my food intake and going to the gym I’ve lost 3kg and am now my absolute ideal weight. I can tell because whenever I see my family they complain about me being too skinny. aw yiss. Like, it wasn’t my intention, but I’m still pleased. I’m happy with my body. I do have this little pot belly, though, that kinda drives me crazy.
Okay so I just tried to take a photo with my webcam and realised what I’m complaining about is laughable so forget I said anything.
This dex is making me feel a bit lightheaded and dazed. I thought it was supposed to help you focus? Focussing is the last thing I feel like doing. I feel like staring at a wall while shaking almost imperceptibly with tension.
Anyway this is a journal entry. What do I have to write about?
Last weekend we went with Josh, Stuart and Tom to Stanthorpe to the Australian Small Winemaker’s show. We paid $60 to try all the wines we wanted. There were a lot of wines.
We may have all gotten a bit tipsy and had hilarious fun. I think I much prefer hanging out with boys than with girls, but I’m often frustrated that they seem to think they have to be more careful what they say around me. Then again, I do get all up in their grill if they make sexist jokes, so I guess it’s fair enough.
After the wine show, and after I’d become far too drunk and caught a taxi back to the hotel, leaving the boys at the Indian restaurant we’d walked through literal clouds of flying ants to get to (apparently I was a real brat because I wanted to walk and was arguing I’d be perfectly safe but the boys absolutely refused to let me leading to a half hour long debate before I finally let Brenton walk me to a taxi), the boys went out drinking some more, and Stuart and Tom both picked up women they took back to the hotel room (THAT THEY WERE SHARING WITH JOSH like seriously poor Josh).
Do you realise that paragraph was only one sentence? I’ve always been good at run-on sentences.
Anyway, the boys went out with dey game own. The thing is, I have to wonder if this would have happened if I’d been present. My theory is the fact that Stuart and Tom both “picked up” had more to do with each other than it did the women. I think it’s the competition. Proving to each other that they can do it; that they are desirable and can win all the wimmens and so they have more man-points. This theory is partially fed by an anecdote I’ve heard Brenton tell two or three times now: Tom at an early point in the evening said to Brenton, “I don’t think much of Stuart’s game, hey.” Then, later on in the night, when Stuart had clearly won access to the vagina of a worthy prize, Tom followed up with, “well I simply must eat my hat to that.”
I wonder if Brenton and Josh were more relieved that they were not expected to participate because they had girlfriends, or more put out that they couldn’t prove their absolute manhoodz with the others, and had to justify in their own minds “she would totes have chosen me over him if I’d been available.”
The weekend before that we had Brenton’s birthday partie. We went out for drinks, all Brenton’s friends invited. I was pretty drunk already when someone suggested tequila. Yeah! Great idea! Special occasion! I went and ordered ten shots. Thing was, not everyone wanted tequila… so, for some (stupid, stupid!) reason, I felt obliged to drink all the remaining shots. I’m unsure exactly how many that constituted but I know it was at least four. Yeah. Quite soon after I weaved my unsteady way to the disabled toilets and hung out on the floor for a while, various sympathetic friends assisting me. I don’t recall anything else from that night, but I shudder to think. Apparently I confided all my secrets to Marie, spent an hour on the phone to Storm, took everyone on a “where Brenton and I have had sex” tour of my house, and told Stu he was superficial.
Sooooo I never learn, and Brenton’s birthdays seem to bring out the worst in me.
This weekend we are going to [secret location] for two nights, one of my birthday gifts to him. I’m looking forward to it. I need more holidaze.
Brenton suggested this post’s title.