my work schedule, of late

9am – arrive at work/see how the 1st World Cup game of the day turned out
10am – pretend to work/listen to the second World Cup game online while also following the game cast on both FIFA & NYTimes [sometimes setting up the video - for the most important games]
11:30am – talk with my co-workers about the games for half an hour
Noon – lunch time
1pm – work for real
2:30pm – pretend to work/same ridiculous following of the late game as before
3pm – constantly update my gchat status to reflect what's happening in the game
4pm – discuss day’s games with co-workers/online/via text message with everyone I know

5pm - work for real
6pm – go home & read Facebook comments about soccer

*except for this Friday. i will be spending my morning at the local bar, watching the USA beat Slovenia!

suck it england

our keeper is better

Self Destruction

Yesterday afternoon I was feeling like I had made a bad decision. I choose to do something rather self-destructive. It wasn’t morally or ethically wrong, but I foresaw potential emotional damage to myself. As the time came, I started feeling extremely high anxiety and wishing I had a stash of Xanax (My mother refuses to give me any - she is so cruel). I briefly entertained the thought of backing out on my anxiety-causing plans, but I am never one to shirk from some good emotional drama. Instead, I started planning the blog post I would write later about how we all make unwise choices and self-destruction is part of human nature and I could throw a recent example of self-inflicted pain from The Manorexic in there yadda yadda yadda.

So off I went, into a world of doubt & confusion & feelings. And when I came out on the other side, I had eaten some seriously delicious food, gotten hit on by a harmlessly nice guy, & won a free shot glass at a bar. But most importantly, I was totally fine. If anything, even more content with my life than when I began my evening. Let me say here, this is not always the case in this scenario, which has happened repeatedly in the past. But after last night I feel like the more I throw myself into this sea of self-destruction, the more I learn to handle it, cope with those issues, & come out the better for it. Being exposed to that potential for emotional heartache and making it through can show us how far we’ve progressed. Perhaps a little self-destruction can be a good thing.