Poor Investments

Maybe I’m just a little bitter. Or maybe, my instincts are accurate. Personally, I hope I’m just bitter.

Last night I put on my very favorite red dress that I always feel so good in because it’s just one of those dresses that looks good, no matter what. I wore it last night because I hoped that I would see new boy out, especially since I hadn’t seen him or really spoken more than a few texts here and there with him. I did my hair all nice, put on nice makeup, and went out for another night which can only be described as a flop of an evening.

Not only did I never see or hear from new boy last night, which I find frustrating in itself, I was subjected to the bitter tears and angry words from three different friends who all, of course, were not having a good time. I don’t remember when I was put in charge of them having a good time, would have been nice to know ahead of time.

Well, on top of that, I actually spent the entire evening talking to the wrong boy. Instead of new boy, who I am actually interested in and enjoy the company of, I got to hang out with the sob of a bitch that enjoys stringing me along for months at a time.

Two years this ass hole has been around, then not around, around, then not around. And I did eventually become fed up with it and move on. He of course, has not done the same. No, instead he sees me at the bar and makes an immediate b-line for me. He knows I’m seeing someone new (or not seeing, as it turns out) and still manages to throw all his game at me.

Arm around me, flirty touching, etc. etc. Even tried to buy me shots and walk me home. I wasn’t having it. I also wasn’t drunk. Cold medicine plus booze has proved a bad move, and I wans’t about to make that mistake. But I had about a beer and a half, and everyone else had most definitely had more. Always puts a fun spin on things.

Well eventually old jack ass boy got the hint and went home, not before trying to take me with him, but I had other things to deal with, such as the two crying girls that I had to take home. One crying because this guy that she kinda likes we basically ignoring her, and the other, well, she was just crying. Never figured that one out.

But we get home, and I find my roommate in the room, upset for the third night in a row. I’m sick of hearing her whining at night while she is drunk, especially when I get to hear it all over again the next morning because she didn’t remember that she had told me the night before.

I’m very much looking forward to my single room next year.

I still haven’t heard from New Boy, despite having sent him a text asking him how his night went. He was on a pub crawl with other friends, maybe he’s just really hung over, and I’m just bitter.

Or maybe the way I feel is actually right on the dot? Either way, there are two weeks left of my sophomore year, and while all i have left is two projects, a final paper, and a pass/fail exam to take, it still seems like it will be two very long weeks.

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