Epiphany

My name is Caitlyn, and I’m an alcoholic.  But that’s only the start of the fun.

I graduated from college about a year and a half ago…and am sleeping on one of several couches at my parents’ house right now.  One is a wide loveseat, but it’s too short to stretch out on, and the other is actually a couch, although it’s too narrow to snuggle with my body pillow.  Point:  I need to move out.

My college degree is useless, the economy sucks, and my dream job is in a subject I am not trained in anyway.  I am smart as a whip, overweight (although my tits are amazing), kinky as hell in bed, and extremely loyal to my friends.  I want to find love, but I don’t think my much older boyfriend does; and regardless, he confuses the hell out of me. 

I just spent ten minutes trying to fish the cork out of the wine I’m drinking, because this $2 bottle I just jacked from the basement is baffling me.  Because I’m already drunk.  Because I just got home from a bar and corkscrews are confusing. 

In my quest for a cork-less bit of wine I’m certain I’ve made too much noise, although at least I don’t think I’ve broken any furniture yet.  It’s not my fault my 89-year-old grandmother will likely wake up as I shuffle around her kitchen trying to find a way to pry the bottom of the cork out of this bottle.  But oh well, at least I got permission from my father to go out and be up this late.  Permission.  Did I mention I’m 23?

In conclusion, I vow to be out of this house by AUGUST 1, 2012.  That is the date to remember, folks.  Come along with me on my journey – as seen through merlot-tinted lenses – to freedom and/or poverty.  Likely poverty.