Crappy New Year

What is it about the holidays that makes you feel 500 times worse than you normally do?
Like if you're usually only borderline miserable and suicidal the rest of the year, the period between December 24th
and January 1st makes you think it might be a good idea to take the plunge and swallow that handful of pills you've been saving.
And if you're going through a breakup, like I seem to do every couple of weeks, this desire to finally
end it all becomes much stronger. Thankfully, today is January 1st, which means that tomorrow I go back
to work and no longer have the luxury of sitting on my couch staring at my cell phone, willing P.O. to call
or text me.
I'm not sure why we chose to schedule our latest breakup to coincide with me having 2 weeks off of work.
It was definitely a case of bad planning.
Not only did I have tons of time off that I could have used to have a bunch of sex, but I also had loads of time to sit by myself and think about all the things I don't want to think about. I have organized my life in a way that usually leaves me very little time to ponder. Which is a good thing. But having two weeks off work and no boyfriend to hang out with left me with countless hours of quality time with my neurosis, which is not good. Even with two trips out of town, I still had way too much alone time with my thoughts. I got to sit and think about what P.O. was doing with all of his time off, which in my fertile imagination usually involved lots of cocaine and prostitutes. I got to think about my job and how much I don't like it. I got to think about New York and how much I really don't like it.
And I decided that I need to make some changes.
I realized that if I don't have P.O. and I don't have a job that I like, there really isn't much reason to stay in New York. So I decided that 2008 is going to be the year I Escape From New York.