Hello lovelies. Can I bask in your appreciative words?
I adore you trusty few followers of mine! Mich, Peanut: you gave me strength. Love you.
So, another lovely day has passed. Oh so lovely.
And entirely covered in Shite.
Seriously. It's so funny in all its traumatic stupidity that I don't even know how to label it right now.
Either under most stupid accidents of all time or the idiot fight (might as well be upgraded to breakup) of 2011.
I guess it's in-between.
Remember yesterday's post? The I am in mountainland la la la I am going to binge post?
Ok. So I binged at dinner. But that's not even the worst part. We had a lovely dinner, ate amazingly well and chatted about our love. How he loves me and such.
After that, we went back home.
I drove S's car. He was sleeping because as a marathon cycling champion was devastated, so I did the driving. I got into his garage where my car was parked. In order to put his in I had to move mine. So, instead of waiting, the inpatient sucker jumps off the car and goes inside.
At this point I grab the dog, shove it in my car that I had moved and close the door to put his car in. While I do this, the little son of a whore steps, while trying to jump outside, on the locking button.
The dog is now locked inside my running car with my purse. I have no cell phone, no home keys, no money. And the dog is locked inside my car.
(note: I had had a bottle of wine, a whole one with dinner. I was tipsy. But it is not a crucial factor. It's just for you to imagine the scene with all the elements)
So, I start panicking.
Of course. I start screaming at the dog, trying to make him step again on the lock, try to open the door with my whole body and such amenities.
Then I go up to S apartment in order to get the spare keys of my place I gave him, go home with his car, get the second pair of car keys I have at home, come back and save the dog. And the car.
I find him under the shower. I start panicking with him about the situation and he starts mocking me. Then splashing water on me when I tell him that I am livid (quite fuzzy memory but pretty sure it happened like that). So I start getting mad.
He then tells me that he doesn't have them (false:had gotten into my apartment a couple of months ago with them). Then he makes the vain attempt of looking into a drawer and tells me he doesn't know where they are. I start getting madder, like how the f*** do you store my home keys, idiot, and he tells me I'm a psycho, I am crazy and such.
At this moment, I scream that I don't want his lousy help, tell him to eff off, slam his door and go back to the dog.
I try for half an hour to shock my brain into sobriety, open the car with the utensils I found lying around in his garage, but no luck.
By now I am totally into breakdown mode, like almost pulling my hair out and punching the car.
At one am I decide to break into my own car. I break the window.
Glass everywhere. The dog has peed on the seat for the scare. And pooped on the floor for some other reason.
Of course I am madder than before. I start picking up pieces of glass as big as confetti for fifteen minutes.
Then I finally stuck his goddamn car into his garage (actually also managed to scrape it a little against the wall, but in the haziness it seemed almost invisible) and take off.
I call him like ten times, he doesn't answer. I get home. The dog manages to escape the leash and flees into the yard of the building. I am in horrid condition. I have my make up messed up, my hair is a sweaty knot and a crazed stare.
I manage to find the only neighbor that is walking the dog at that hour.
He looks me weird and lazily helps me catching the dog.
I finally enter my apartment at 1.30 am.
At 1.40 while finally in bed I text him telling something like:
Thanks for the mess you made nothing to avoid from happening. Go on and behave like this. Your keys are in the car. Bye. Take care.
And today, no sign from him. He doesn't call. Doesn't text. Nothing. I could've cut my arm while smashing the window and I would've died alone.
And today he plays it rough???
You know what?
Fuck off. There. I said it.
And in all that I was wearing flip flops.
So now I am in my hometown (ate again as a cow) waiting for tomorrow to have the new car.
The sadness is starting to creep in.
This is all so sad.
This is a funny way to lose a relationship.
Just as funny as the way we met.
All in all today was a shitty 24 hours. Now I am in bed. My stomach is full and round. It hurts. Not a crazy binge, more like a good dinner. But feel disguising nonetheless.
And no laxies. Fuck.
Ladies, enjoy your life while you can, because at one point it starts raining shit.