I'm feeling bloggy. It was a long summer, things didn't pan out the way I thought they would and I spent most of it worrying and thus eating my feelings . Now I'm back at work and things still aren't the way I planned. Boo me. *crying in my coca cola* WAH!!!
My problem mainly is that I am terrible to the millionth power with money. And that stresses me out. Next to that small problem is not a problem, but still stresses me out, Dell, my lovely boyfriend.
I'm not dishonest, but like the Duchess of Devonshire (I could never be a princess) I keep things that might a) get me in trouble b) make Dell mad or c) all of the above from him. Sew he reads my mail. Which does piss me off, but in the long run I can't really get mad since if I'd just tell the truth I wouldn't be in this stupid pickle.
I've never been one to talk about my problems *eye roll*. I mean don't we all have them, some worse than others. I mean I'm not hooked on meth or anything. Since I don't talk about my problems I tend to wallow or dwell on everything. I have finally come into the familiar disease WORRYWORTISM. I blame my foremothers for this. Thank goodness I don't have children, because *shudder*.
I have no idea how I can break my cycle of worrying and fretting. I have thought about therapy, complaining more, maybe just telling Dell what is exactly going on in my life. He is the one I want to spend the next 50 years with, and possibly continue to torture in the next life. SO when he says we need to budget I'll pony up my bills, monthly expenses and how much I actually make, and when he asks me what is wrong I'll tell him, easy, right?
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