Monday, June 20, 2011

One week.

You know, sometimes it feels like I walk through life in a constant state of inebriation. The next morning I only remember vaguely what I did the night before and when I remember I try to forget, because I’m ashamed of my actions. Weirdly enough this only happens in that special week of the month – you know what I mean. Around that time, everything seems to be a little out of place. I do things I wouldn’t usually do, cry about stuff I usually find extremely stupid or then I simply can’t seem to shut my mouth when I really, really should not be talking. At all. Yes, in fact it’s like that entire week is a big fat party gone bad. A party at which I got drunk, spilled all of my friends dirty secrets, danced on the table and took my bra off. Only that in actual, real life I trusted the wrong people, spilled all of my own dirty secrets, think that I have to be the center of attention and then went crying to the one person who always has my back no matter what. Thank you for that. And then comes the walk of shame. The next morning, or in this particular case, the next few days or weeks I have to face my stupidity and apologize for my behaviour. Guys, I know it’s never been easy with me.

If you do the math that happens to me about twelve times a year and even if it’s only once every month I sometimes fear that the shit I do during that week kinda affects everything else in such a bad way that I’ll screw things up for... good? It’s not unusual for me to suddenly turn into that pillow-throwing monster who seems to have rage issues or I get really angry at myself for not knowing better, listen to my instincts and just – for once – shut the hell up and deal with it all in a way a normal person would.

At this point I can only make a promise to myself: I'll never make you go through this pointless humiliation again.

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