design / host
That girl
Friday, Jan. 16, 2004 @ 12:20 a.m.
I honestly don�t know how I stand living in this mess. My floor is covered in clothes and make-up, the desk is piled in receipts, empty cans of Diet Coke, candles, water bottles, letters, and pens, PENS, PENS galore! I�ve let myself get lost in dismal behavior. My father always says that a room reflects your mood or personality. Well, my mood and personality are lost under piles of dust and old socks, apparently.
Nay, I suppose it means that I�ve taken less time to take care of myself. In retrospect my slightly larger tummy and not recently cut hair prove this theory correct. I stumbled over disgustedness as I tried to find something appropriate for Ghirardelli�s. It was then I realize I have become� ::insert dramatic music:: THAT girl.
That girl who wears the same pair of jeans over and over, washing every day, or sometimes every other, because �I�m going to lose weight, I swear!� That girl who calls her friends on the phone and asks, �What was the name of that movie with that guy? Oh, really? Thanks!� and hangs up. That girl who is always talking about nothing important, but the words just keep coming. That girl who always has food or drink with her and talks about how she�s cutting back� honest. The one who sprays a lot of perfume so it will last the ENTIRE day.
That girl who is so outrageous at times you can�t believe she ever made it out the door between all her senseless griping.
At least I�m not that girl who wears hot pants and really shouldn�t. I�m definitely not that girl.