Playing That Funky Music

Usually I prefers my funk in the form of music. But this week? I’m straight up in a funk. Womp womp.

After spending a lovely, and I mean lovely, weekend with my dad and brother, I’ve found myself smack dab in a rut. Back to worrying about how I’m going to pay for rent x2 next month (current roommate is moving out in a few days, new roommate isn’t moving in for several weeks), how I’m going to handle the not-so-big-deal-but-still-sucks situation of having my car wrecked this week, how I can’t seem to shed those 5lbs that have crept up this year despite running and eating pretty healthy about 80% of the time (is it really that 20% that’s holding me back?!) , how my dog prefers the company of my boyfriend who is at my house maybe once a week, or how when I finally dress up, do my hair, put some makeup on nobody notices. I could go on, but you have probably maxed out your ability to roll your eyes further upwards into your head.

Okay. So I’m not homeless. I’m clearly not going hungry. I do have a car (held precariously together by duct tape, but still running!), and I have a loving family that would fly out in a second to be with me should I make the call. All in all, I’m not doing so bad.

But sometimes, a girl just has to vent. And despite what they tell ya, sometimes the dog just doesn’t cut it. (I swear he’s going through some teenage doggy stage where he is to cool for school to hang out with his human mom. Kids!)

On the plus side, it’s Wednesday and the weekend is fast approaching.

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It’s a hard knock life, yo.

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