Being on my own again is wierd. I hate it. Its not that I don't know how to be single, lord knows most of the time that I prefer it. I am just not good at it anymore. I used to enjoy my time to myself. I could sit around the house and wear something old, something borrowed, and something blue without caring what I looked like. I could eat cookie dough and lay on the couch drinking Dr. Pepper right from the bottle. (Sexy picture I know!) I could sleep until 2 in the afternoon on the weekends without some jackhole telling me that I am waisting the day away. My pug could sleep on my neck and snore right in my ear without someone telling me that it was distracting. This fabulous life that I used to know vanished completely on December 8th.

Now I cant sit alone in a room without picking up the phone to call or text someone and it is usually a person of the opposite sex. I am looking for something or someone to replace the gigantic hole in my heart. I know that, I am not stupid. I think what pisses me off the most is that I have become insecure. What the French? That is so lame! I have NEVER been insecure. I have always been oddly confident! These days I cant stand to be alone and I am rarely sleeping on top of that. I think if that if I had to calculate how much sleep I have had in the past two weeks I would average 4 hours per night. Some nights I do not sleep at all.

I thought after my father passed away that I was handling it as well as to be expected but now when I look back at my rapidly deteriorating behavior over the past 3 months I see that it is only a matter of time before the wind is completely knocked out of my sails.