SG goes all Hollywood on yo ass (or at least in her own mind)

My work days have been packed with, well, work – boo! So there hasn’t been much time to write from my desk. And my weekend was pretty much eaten up by bad decisions and about 10 rounds with Depression in which the Big D KO’d me early Sunday.

I’m going through some big downer kind of stuff that I’ve been contemplating writing about here. Truth is, it doesn’t serve much purpose other than to bum you guys out, so I’ll probably skip it for now, but just know that when I don’t write for days it’s not you, it’s me. For realz.

I’m going bezerkers at my desk today.

Many days I think I’m simply not cut out for this work stuff and this is one of them. For one, I have a bad video game habit. Have since Atari. Right now I’m in the secret laboratory dungeon on Persona 4 and I REALLY want to fight those shadows and find out what happens next. I sit here thinking, “Would my boss really notice if I slipped out for a few hours? I must know if those teens catch the killer and return Inuba to its former quiet state!”

Also, I’m about to be the next Food Network star. Well, maybe not. But I am being considered for one of the cooking challenge shows and I have to finish writing my recipes and get them to the casting director by tomorrow! This means I need to leave work early, go shopping for all the yummy ingredients, make the dishes all one more time, invite over taste testers and quadruple check the recipes I’ve written -- all in the next 12 hours. Do I have to do this AGAIN, you may be asking. My OCD brain answers, yes! Besides, I want to win this biatch. Big cash prizes, fame, fortune, a marriage to Christian Bale, a house in the English countryside, babies that look like Harry Potter and have magical skills … whoa. Carried away. Seriously people. The Food Network changes lives. Have you seen the Rachel Ray story?

All this is to say sitting here thinking about the precise wording to use in a gift acceptance policy is not exactly enough to keep my attention right now.

I will leave you with this little gem. It’s the trailer for a “Lifetime summer movie event” (again, not Hushed Rapings.) If you watch the movie closely when it premieres on May 30, and you know what you’re looking for, you will see me and Martini. It’s going to be awesome(ly bad – but seeing me and my besties Martini and Sarah Chalke on the small screen will be great, right?)

* Dumb Lifetime will not let me embed so you'll have to click here: Maneater. It's soooooo worth it. (Not really, but if you're reading this you probably have nothing better to do ;-)

My slow decent into alcoholism went something like this post

I've been hiding under a fleece blanket Little B usually bogarts for a bed for the last couple of days playing Persona 4, listening to Jeff Hanson and Phosphorescent and eating things like olives and cottage cheese right from the containers whenever my brain finally forces me feed it by making me exceedingly dizzy whenever I stand.

These are signals I've come to recognize over the last 15 years or so as clear signs that depressed SG is on the scene.

This awesome visit from my dear old friend chronic depression hit me out of nowhere this time since the ol' brain chemicals are pretty well regulated by my crazy pills so I'm less than thrilled.

I had all this crap I wanted to write about but the big bully part of my brain is just punching the little part down and telling me that everything I write is trite anyway and I should just go to bed because I'm so tired. I know, however, that as soon as I get in bed I'll just watch dumb stuff like "In the Line of Fire" on hulu until 4 a.m.

Compounding my problem is The Ex who keeps calling me these last few days. What does he want? What part of he dumped me does he not understand??? Of course I don't say this because that would be smart and I am a raging moron who of course will go to lunch with him tomorrow. Because that will definitely help me get out of this awesome mental state I'm in.

Anyway, this is my lame explanation of why there have been no witty posts for a few days.

Tomorrow I'm "bartending" at some party with Martini by making margaritas for a bunch of old guys who like to use the word "cunt" in their dirty jokes at a happy hour where I'm supposed to "dress Mexican" -- I'm a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, ivory skinned girl from Ohio.

Maybe the booze will help. Lots and lots of booze. Or maybe this will push me completely over the edge.

Wish me luck.

Twitchy eyes and fruit flies

I had all these wonderful intentions for this evening.

I created a mental checklist while I stared at my computer in my office with my fingers on the keyboard looking like I was about to write something incredible.

I was going to stop at the grocery store and stock up on healthy food since my fridge is pretty much empty, aside from two beers, some tomato juice for bloodys, three bottles of white wine and some cheese. Sings: One of these things is not like the others.

I swear I was so bored at work I spent the last hour listening to Iron and Wine -- perk of being the only "creative type" in the office is that they let me get away with stuff like listening to music for "inspiration" -- and daydreaming about the lovely beets and cucumbers I planned to buy. For realz.

Then I planned to walk the dog and hit the gym for a solid hour. While there, I was determined to ask my absolutely adorable neighbor to join me and some girlfriends and a couple other neighbors at my place for dinner this weekend.

Side note: I had this genius idea about a week ago to invite people over for a getting to know you type shindig. I'm planning something super home-y -- my red wine marinara, which is amazing by all accounts but which is made in a vat and is not practical* for this single gal, with some easy sides and apps. I figured if I had people to share all that sauce with it would be totally worth the full day of simmering.

My ulterior motive (there usually is one with me) is to figure out if Gym Guy is gay or straight. We work out at the same time most days and I always run into him. I had written him off as gay because I live in the Gayborhood and all the cute ones here are gay, but then there was excessive eye contact, and then there was the helpful pointers on my workout routine (which was missed all three times because I had my damn iPod on so loud and was jamming out and had to stare at him and say 'Huh?' each time. Yeah, I'm smooth like that) I got all excited at the possibility. So, I thought I'd leave the invitation open to bring signifant others and see what happens.

But back to my intentions for tonight. I also intended to bake banana bread to use the bananas that I never ate, which turned brown and are one day away from attracting fruit flies to my kitchen. While the company might be nice, I thought I could surprise all my co-workers with homemade baked good in the morning for brownie points. Again, ulterior motive being that they start talking about lunch from the moment they sit down at 9 a.m. and by feeding them I can perhaps not have to hear about it until 10:30, or please sweet baby Jesus, 11.

But I failed all around. Instead, I went straight home in some kind of weird daze, had pretzel rods and Crystal Light for dinner, played Persona 4 for hours and then died before I could save my progress (bastards!), and surfed the blog world. At least I remembered to walk my dog.

Sometimes I think I have a serious problem with depression. Sometimes I think I'm just terribly lazy. I'm definitely experiencing anxiety over all my dumb weekend decisions. My eye has been all twitchy for two days. Now I just need to decide if I can motivate myself to resolve the problem the healthy way by getting back into my normal, non-drinking problem routine, or resort to the Ativan. I'll keep you posted.

* I stared at this word for ages thinking "That is not right." I tried "practicle" and "practecal." See what I mean about being in a daze today?