Well, Drummer and I ended things last night. Needless to say I had awful nightmares about swimming with sharks…naked. I then woke up with a need to listen to Taylor Swift and Adele while feasting on chocolate chip cookies and crying incessantly. I did just that. I’ll admit it: I feel like utter shit.
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Utter shit: an overwhelming sense of physical drain and deterioration resulting in an intrinsic need to either a) consume copious amounts of food, particularly sugars or b) stay away from anything remotely pleasant or satisfying (for example friends, happy songs, or food), while listening to overly dramatic songs about losing someone; best explained by the feeling you get when you’re watching Titanic and see that Jack cannot fit on that God damned wooden board with Rose, thus resulting in his death; synonyms: shitty, fucking miserable, Adele-ish, Taylor Swifty, gross, un-horny, psycho; antonyms: wonderful.
The best thing about dumpee depression is that it makes me not wanna eat (I predict being completely turned off to food once I finish these last two cookies). I have a dress to fit in for Vixen’s wedding this Saturday. I guess every cloud really does have a silver lining.