breaking up over the phone/email

I just wanted to note that I am actually in favor of the above methods. People always complain that "s/he didn't even do it in person!" but really, would that have made it better? Think of how awkward it is for the dumper--they have to make plans with you to see you in person, which means they have to act like nothing is wrong, and then they have to say those excruciatingly awkward words that must ultimately convey, "I just don't like you anymore." Afterwards, they have to sit there uncomfortably as you cry. Is that really better?

No. Email and phone are the way to go. It's easier, it's quicker, it's less awkward, you don't have to see each other after it's over with, and best of all, it gives the person who was dumped a chance to say, "I'm not upset about the *break up*, I just can't believe s/he did it over the phone!" It's perfect. You're planting in the dumpee that first seed of blame, helping them realize, in fact, *you* were the deficient one, and they deserved better, which is what they need to move on anyway. Trust me. You're doing them a favor. Take one for the team.

socialize

The reason you have to hang out with other people even if you hate them is because otherwise, you will only be hanging out with yourself. It's best to aim your hatred outward.

fat

Having sudden free time is kind of like suddenly losing a lot of weight--you have to remind yourself that you're not fat anymore, because in your head, you're still a fat girl.

screwing up kids

Yesterday, as I was assembling my coffee table, I slipped while I was screwing in one of the legs. Consequently, I cut my finger on the edge of the table. So I did the obvious thing that a person living alone would do. I screamed, "FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK YOU SCREWDRIVER! FUUUUUUCKKKKK!" Then I was embarrassed at how loud I was, and I was briefly terrified that one of my neighbors would call the cops, and then I would have to sheepishly explain that the only domestic violence going on in my house was between me and my screwdriver.

That's when I realized I need to learn to control my anger, even though I live alone. Because one day, that screwdriver will be one of my kids giving me a cut on my finger. And while the screwdriver can take it, I would really rather not scar my kids in a moment of heated, albeit justified, anger.

evidence

Sometimes I read my papers from college to get inspiration for a paper I'm working on, and that's when I know for sure that since I started law school, I have destroyed so many of my brain cells from too much drinking. Christ, I used to be smart. Now I have to squeeze my brain to follow my own self's train of thought. Don't drink, kids. It just makes bad decisions seem good, and then you hate yourself--you can't take back those dialed calls that appear in your phone the next morning, that person will be back to being unattractive when you wake up, and those gaps in your memory are indications that you did something really bad, like curse at strangers before passing out in your own vomit. Then, all you'll have left to comfort you is the fact that you have too little brain cells to care anymore. No amount of pain-numbing alcohol is worth these consequences.