They call me Danica

Somebody did once, anyway.

He fell asleep before 8pm, on the couch, in our living room with one painted wall and no curtains. So I took a bottle of wine downstairs, turned on The Real World, and here I am. I get googley and facebookey when I drink. I look for long lost people I shouldn’t ever want to actually find. I’ve found obituaries, ex’s with their lovely new unfortunate others, and I’ve spilled my guts out knowing I would regret it in the morning.

After that bottle of wine, I found chunks in my Bailey’s? Wasn’t sure it was possible, as Bailey’s seemed like the thing that was always there for you. With its little bow, so festive and delicious. The expiration date isn’t for another year, but there they were. Chunks. Gross. So a bottle of wine later I’m watching the Colbert Report, and enjoying my TV alone time. Watching all of the shows we don’t watch together. The shows I haven’t seen in years. Munching on pretzels, wondering when I will learn how to not eat/drink out of boredom. Quite possibly, never.

I don’t know how people suffer from insomnia. I have never, ever had that problem. I can fall asleep, anytime, anywhere. I said that to some guy on a date once. I actually really liked him, and mourned over that loss for quite a while. I wasn’t in shock that he took days to respond. I was more in shock that he didn’t have the balls to be honest.

I should go to bed and love love love love my boyfriend right now…