- Cookies Made: 25 dozen+ (6 Dozen Pecan Bars, 12 Dozen Macaroons, About 100 (or more) bourbon balls, 1 batch of brownies with peppermint frozting)
- Drinks had: Several glasses of wine, 5 vodka tonics, a little bourbon straight
- Trips to the grocery store: 8 (plus a couple target runs)
- Kitchen equipment purchased: 4 (1 cookie sheet, 1 9x13 pan, 1 9x9 pan, 1 mixer)
- Clothing purchased: 1 new dress + accessories, 1 pair of pants, 2 pairs of pajamas with matching slippers
- Injuries: 1 pinky closed in car door
- Miles driven: about 500
- Guys picked up in bars: 1
- Weight gained: 5 real lbs (about 15 imaginary ones due to bloat)
- Visits to the friend's house for distraction: 2
- Parties hosted: 1
- Parties attended: 3
- Parties planned to host: 2
- Breakdown days: 1
I am, however, exhausted. And eating poorly. And using all of this as a way to not feel or think or do.
But I'm fabulous. So it's okay, right? I'm having fun. There's no balance to my life, but I'm having fun. Does it matter? It kinda scares me when I'm not thinking about things. When I'm not planning out how to deal with stuff. The little voice in my head tells me I should be thinking harder, be more worried, more stressed. It tells me that my breakdown last week could happen again. That it could be worse. That it will be worse. Logically - the voice is probably right. But I don't have the energy to be fabulous and feel fabulous at the same time. I'd get even less sleep if I was to try to cook and clean and do all that other stuff. So I'm worried about that. I'm trying not to worry and to just go with it. But I know it's no good. I know what I need to be doing. I just need to find the time, energy, and inclination to do it. And still be fabulous
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