One fish, two fish, red fish, dead fish.

Hello blog world.

Pardon my absence these past few weeks. I have been in a weird place that I'm sure has been worsened by these damn hormones that flow through my body once a month and remind me that no amount of boys attire can delete estrogen. I never wanted this blog to become a pity parade of my life, and I have a tendency to be a bit dramatic, so I have been avoiding posting because I was afraid of what I would write. But alas, my good friend, red wine, has encouraged me to update my loyal readers on my so called life.

Well, I'm still single and poor. Actually, I'm singler and poorer than the last time I posted. How can a single girl become more single you ask? Easy, my fish died. Let me explain. Boo Bear bought me a fish. He said it would be a good test run to see if I could handle a cat. I mean how hard is it to keep a fish alive. Turns out, very hard. I had the little guy for just about a month before he croaked. I was devastated. I was sure it was some omen I was destined to be alone forever. I mean if  I can't keep a fish alive, how am I supposed to take care of a cat...never mind a kid! Okay, I may be rushing things, but I told you, I can be dramatic.

Well the fish was really the start of a downfall. Since then I have questioned every decision in my life. In a recent discussion with a friend who is about to embark on a wonderful adventure working on a cruise ship I expressed how jealous I was. When she suggested I join her, I immediately went on the website in search of an application. Then two thoughts occurred to me: one, I should wait until I'm sober, and two, how can I leave the kids I work with? At 24 and single I should be free. Roaming the world. Having strange, wonderful nights. Instead, I'm looking at my crooked, pathetic christmas tree and drowning my day in a bottle of wine. What happened? Please don't get me wrong, I love my job, and I love the kids I work with. But I am becoming increasingly more aware of how close to settling down I am and that scares the crap out of me. My friend says I'm just in an, "in between place." I feel like I'm in the middle seat of a plane between two sleeping, obese people and I have to pee but can't move. I know, dramatic.

Is it just be or does being 24 suck? Its a scary world with decisions that are beyond my years and expectations beyond my abilities. I want to run away and settle down all at the same time. My head is spinning and I'm pretty sure its not just the wine.