...duly warned...

I feel the need to give a heads up to everyone that knows me.

I will be a bitch this week. It's not so much an intention "I will be a bitch", as a statement of fact. In fact, I started off on it yesterday when I received a call (to be titled: too little too late) and let him have it, accordingly.

It wasn't self-centred, it wasn't arrogant and it wasn't truly bitchy - it was justified. Naturally today the silence of my phone mocks me "I'm never ringing again, you ungrateful girl", but to that I say "fuck you, ungrateful this" and tossing up a finger.

Janet stands over my shoulder as I prepare to write this. "Remember what we talked about" she says. I remember, I remember - and therefore I think I am going to follow onto Mark's 3-month plan. THE 3-month plan of avoidance to breed independence, and so on, and so on. I can so do it too.

Mark tells me that if I ensure he meets my friend Robin (thus effectively negating the three-month plan, I wonder if he's realized) then he will ensure I get drunk tonight. Well that would be nice, quite frankly. Although at no time since Friday have I truly been undrunk, or unstoned. But the point is, I choose this way as my escape, and no other.

Except for one other, which is that I called Christian this morning and told him I was running away to Seattle. He laughed and said "sure". Then I filled out my passport application form and called him again. He stopped laughing.

(disclaimer: I don't mean running away forever, just for a leetle while. And also remember how many times in the past I have threatened to head west, and never got the cash together for the ticket).

I should set up paypal. The thing where you get money from people. You all could fund my flee.

Ha.. I said "fund my flee".

Update: When Greg called - "go away Greg, I'm not in the mood for you". Hung up. This is going to come back and bite me in the ass, I know.