If FML posted novels

As a form of therapy, I decide to have this awesome frozen yogurt, Mochi, which just happens to be owned by Bento where I worked for 2 years and left on horrible terms. Too bad I am completely obsessed with Mochi and have had it 3 days in a row despite the cold looks from the staff. At Mochi, it's set up for self-service and you are charged by the ounce ($0.45 per ounce). It's super delicious; the flavors are mostly ethnic sweetie flavors: Taro, Green Tea, etc. and then you top it with fresh fruit. So I do up my bowl, I call it MochiTherapy, and go to the register to pay my old boss who I never told I was quitting; just never responded to her texts. She weighs it and charges me.
$9.03. 18.8 oz of Mochi. That is over a pound.
I swerve all over the road eating my Mochi in the car.
There are times when I am driving and being alone in the car couldn't be lonelier.
My gas tank: empty, cell phone battery: in the red, check engine light: on, trash: everywhere.
Every song on my iPod is sadder than the last.
(Think Warning Sign by Coldplay)
Every song reminds me of being in the car with someone who I no longer ride in the car with.
I am so lonely because I have been abandoned by the resources that I surround myself with to keep me company when it's necessary to ride in the car alone.
Then I decide to go to Hollywood Video for a romantic comedy to cheer me up.
I choose Wasted which is on heroine use among American teens and Children of Men, on infertility in the UK set in 2026 and the struggle of a pregnant fugee.
I go to pay, there is a hold on my account for 9 late movies, totalling $79 in late fees.
I know that as someone who blogs, it's expected that I exaggerate. And sometimes I do. I wish this were fiction. This couldn't be more true. Except that I only had $60 in late fees, but still.
I've been in this haze of self-pity.
At a high school graduation party (I am a should-be sophomore in college), I am standing alone and who walks in but the loneliest mother fucker on the planet and guess what? He's had a crush on my for years. There we were, observing the high school seniors who have their high school skinny and their diplomas and 4 great years to look forward to in college. And here I am, a 1st year drop out with 30 extra pounds and a full time clerical position. It's not funny. It really isn't. But I can't stop laughing.
I was yelled at in the DMV today for going to the wrong room to get a duplicate ID, to replace the one that was in the beautiful Sabina bag that I lost when drunk last Monday. I went to the room where the driving tests are taken. I stood there and looked around in my jogging shorts and tank top like I was probably in the wrong room. Then the lady who calls the ticket numbers yells to me, "I said to go to the last room on the right, ma'am."
I don't miss anything in my purse except for my old ID in which I was 16, playing soccer and weighed 125 lbs. When I showed it to people, they knew I'd had a rough time and had gained a bunch of weight lately. Sometimes old black men in Chevron shirts who call me "Baby" would throw in a free lighter when I bought cigarettes with it.
One morning a few days ago, my hangover was interrupting my sleep so I decided to swim laps at the pool in my neighborhood. I had major hysteria because I couldn't even swim 2 laps without getting winded. I decided to lie down in a lawn chair and think because it was one of those days when I was nearsighted by my thoughts. I ended up in tears thinking of this tragic life that I have been living so I tried to pray for guidance and at the thought of myself in a lawn chair at a public pool, crying in a one-piece and praying to God at 9:00 on a Sunday morning, I ended up laughing and going inside to call my friend and tell her of my nonsense.
This is so unbelievably comical and so pathetically factual.
Sometimes in my mind, I am a Bohemian princess who casts spells on men with charm and makes my cat's life worth living.
Today, I am a train wreck.