There's Meth For That

So yesterday I set out to do four things...grocery shopping, eat pho (I LOVE PHO!!!), make it to the gym and at some point Skype with a closest thing (person) to a boyfriend I had in years...even though he's 1700 miles away (more on that some other time...I know I got issues and I think I may be coming to terms with them...ahhhh). Low and behold I managed all 4. YAY me! If you know me you know that I have great intentions and sell myself on many different ideas and than get uninterested and lose the wind under my wings (or however that saying goes).

Anyhow...woke up and immediately lost 2 hours of my life...wasn't on Facebook or blogging or watching TV. I know I managed to eat a bowl of protein oatmeal...other than that, I have no clue wtf I did. Decided I should go grocery shopping before I lose a whole day.

Put my jeans on, rip them in the process...you know right by the zipper like a true fatass. Seriously need to get my eating under control...wtf?!

Pretty fucking much!

Oh well, my jeans were on (yes the ripped ones...I am going to the grocery store for fuck sake not to meet Obama) and I was on my way to be productive. 

Made it to the store and at the time, I was the only one checking out (ahhhh the beauty of Sunday mornings when the rest of humanity is being "good" and attending church services...we should have Sunday church throughout the week...few times at least..hmmm). Behind the register was a woman in her 30's, who clearly judging by her wild eyes and nervous twitching was no stranger to meth (or crack or both...are they different?...whatever).

Now, let me assure you, I believe in the second chances in most instances (preferably I don't have to be involved). However, I am not quite sold on the idea of recovering drug addicts working with public...I know you think I am a judgy bitch...and you're right...but they seems so twitchy and I can't help but feel that one wrong word or look will set them off and they'll go stab happy and somehow I see myself doing time for killing a single mother of 3 with my bare hands.

Back to my cashier...so I am thinking to myself  "Stop being a big fat cunt...I'm sure she's a nice lady...you don't know where she's been and what she's going through...STOP FUCKING JUDGING!".

So she's making a small chat like "How's your day? What are you up to this Sunday?" I'm all like "Good so far...meh...I have a day off so I should be productive (now that's some funny shit, especially if you know me)" then she replies (wild bulging eyes...you know that "meth look"...surprised with a slight (or not so slight) hint of deranged..head cocked) "I was off yesterday...I CLEANED" (long pause, giving my mind plenty of to wander)...yes you know it...my thoughts went directly to "of course you cleaned...your tile grout with the toothbrush probably...that house is so clean you scrubbed the paint off the walls, floor and your bathroom fixtures"...fuck me...I am a terrible person.

Then I thought...well, perhaps if I did some meth my house may be spic and span too (I'll lower my expectations to just presentable...I've never done meth...but meth can't begin to fathom my procrastination capabilities...also, can you do meth just once every two weeks for cleaning purposes?!)...hell, I would probably never have a problem of ripping my pants either, if I was a meth-head...meth may be a cure-all drug in my case...hmmmm. Definitely something to consider :).