Saturday, November 19, 2005

I'm quitting my job and becoming a slut in Las Vegas. Not even a paid professional, although my experience will increase over time until I might be called a pro by some. I never want to get married, I never want to have kids, I never want any of the stuff I once thought I wanted. If I really believed this, it might make my life easier.

See, I do want to get married, I do want to have kids and my boyfriend knows it. And now he wants to use this information to help him get a better rate on his car insurance. I'm sure that's not what he thought when he agreed to go with his friend's plan (that sells all kinds of insurance and wants to help my S.O. because he was recently fired and lost his company truck.) But that's what I thought of when said friend started explaining that if I would pretend I was married on my new policy, I and my "husband" would get better rates. I already have car insurance. I don't need to change, thank you very much. And especially not at the expense of something that I hold very dear and my S.O. doesn't think very much of.

Okay, so I might be a little drunk and I might be a little irritable since I'm getting sick and it seems that every girl at our tailgate is hotter than me, no matter what I do, but that's besides the point. My S.O. should have talked to me about this alone, not let his friend bring it up. That might have made it better...

I'm sure I'll regret this post when I sober up. I always do. And probably erase it. But, we'll see.

I'm out, bitches.

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