Friday, November 05, 2004


It is my birthday, for Pete's sake. For my birthday, I gave myself the gift of telling the Then to freaking quit whining already.
You know, your life is your choice. Do crappy things happen? Yes. Are the choices easy? Hell, no. But I am tired of all this "my life is hell, my life is shit, I'm stuck in this country because of you, I'm tired of having no one," blah blah blah blah blah. Especially on my birthday, dammit. Do not call me on my birthday and moan about how shitty your life is, especially not when I'm on my way to the acupuncturist to try and get some control over the havoc created by the stress hormones that have been partying in my adrenal gland ever since you broke my friggin heart. BAH.
I probably sound like a total bitch, but what do you want from a Scorpio?
I said, "Look. I'm not saying this because I'm a bitch, I'm saying this because I actually care about you. You. Control. Your. Life!!! Crap happens, and you can't stop it, but you get to choose how you deal with it. Go get some therapy, do something, but quit giving control of your life away to me or your boss or the weather or whatever. Do you really think that living somewhere else is going to solve everything in your life? If so, then make that choice and move, but you better really spend some time thinking about whether that's the real problem."
Great, now I sound like a pirate. And on my birthday. (shrug) I can work with that.

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