Happy F*cking New Year

I returned to Virginia on a high — I swear, time spent in Pittsburgh does wonders for my ego. When I go there, I’m the hot-shot (har har) from D.C., returning to the Little Town That Couldn’t. When I return to the nation’s capital, I’m still a little person who can’t balance her checkbook, which is surprising, given the meager amount left with which to balance.

I had fun in the ‘Burgh, doing meals and picking up (small but perfect) gifts for my loved ones as well as some awesome items for myself that were on major markdown (except my trip to the liquor store. hee hee). Unfortunately, while I only have a handful of items to show for my supposed extravagance, I found that I don’t even have enough money to pay the rent. Oh goody. Not to mention the past-due bills, but I’ll spare my readers that living joy. I s’pose I’ll just pay my half of the rent late, with the late fee attached, next pay, but unfortunately, I have to take a LOT of bills out of next pay. I’ll bet I only really pissed away $200 out of the current pay, which is small potatoes compared to how much disposable income I had last year, but I digress. Argh. Back to life, back to reality.

IKEA Boy and I have been planning a trip to the Big Apple on Jan. 8, but I think I should stay home, unless I want to sit in the hotel all day. And that’s another thing — I signed up for the trip figuring that he was paying the cost of the hotel and travel, as I am just going along with him for the ride (he’s taking a tour of some major media outlets as part of his graduate school studies). Hmm. I will have to think more about this one. I hate my life right now. On the bright side, I took those vacation days, which means that if nothing else, I get to miss the Veggie Patch holiday fiesta on Jan. 10. 🙂 That alone makes me happy!

IKEA Boy gave me the most beautiful silver bracelet with stones that I am struggling to identify (it’s either malachite or some variation thereof — I will have to find that out post-haste). I love it. Thanks, IKEA Boy!

At any rate, I was figuring on NOT going out for New Year’s, as I’m super-po’, but fuck it. I’ll pay the late fee for the rent, pay some other bills in the interim, and catch up next time. Of course, I say that every month with other bills, and all I seem to do is plunge deeper and deeper into debt, but I am NOT going to ring in the New Year on a sour note. My grandmother always used to say that what you are doing at midnight on New Year’s Eve is what you’ll be doing all year — and that includes how you’re feeling. And true to form, I’ve been drunk every New Year’s, and I’ve spent the whole year drunk! lol. So why should THIS year be any exception?!?!

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