Baggage

When The Boy and I first broke up I was having a very difficult time of it. I had some issues going on where it would have been nice to have a supportive significant other. Instead of supporting me through these issues The Boy decided to cut bait. His abandonment, as I saw it at the time, caused further issues. I was a very unhappy little lady.

Many days it was a struggle to go to work. I much would have rather stayed in bed sucking my thumb and cuddled up with Mr. Bunny. However, I would drag myself out of bed, put on my shiny face and trudge off to work. I am a very vocal person. I wear my heart on my sleeve. Everyone at work knew my mood as soon as I hit the door. At the end of one extremely bad day as I stood railing against all of creation in the front office, my friend "Amy" said to me, "You need help with those bags or can you make it out to your car all by your little old self?" I couldn't help but laugh. She was right. I was carrying around a ton of baggage. It became a running joke at work. I would come in , they would ask me how many bags I needed to check, and depending on my mood I would answer anywhere from a small carry-on to two steamer trunks full. It was a way to make light of the situation and it made me feel a little better each day. I'm still bitter and I still have baggage but I laugh about it now.

Over the recent holiday, I had exchanged a few emails with The Boy. He initiated the exchange with kind questions about Ryan Adams in Nashvegas. And again I am pretty sure he was flirting with me in the beginning. God help me, I'm pretty sure I flirted back. Bad Lola.

During one of the emails he asked my plans for the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. I mentioned that I might be in his state over New Year's to visit someone dear to me. Let me tell you, The Boy flipped his shit. First he told me not to "mess" with him. He said the state wasn't big enough for both of us. He WARNED me not to set foot in his state. He told me there were 49 other states and there was no need for me to come to the one he was born and now lived in. He made some other veiled references to sending out a posse for me and again warned me not to come. I calmly emailed him back and told him to get over it. If he's married, with a kid, and in love it shouldn't matter what state I'm in right? I told him as much. Whose being the drama queen now, bitch?

In fact, now I must ponder how many steamer trunks he is carrying around on a daily basis. Nah, I don't want to know. I don't need any more baggage. I'm traveling butt ass naked from here on out.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Enjoy your weekend bitches. I'll miss you. And I mean that in a "I'm going to be with a bunch of sluts and assholes" all weekend way. Drive fast and take plenty risks.