I feel like I got hit by a bus.

I had to go to a wedding for some people I used to be friends with. I was sort of confused as to why I was even invited, because I never see / talk to / keep up with / have anything to do with anyone in that group anymore. Like, at all. And not for any real reason. You know those painful conversations you have with people and all they can think to ask you is "Where's your boyfriend?" Let's just call a spade a spade and admit that we don't know each other at all anymore, okay? I'll be at the bar.

Situations like that make me wonder, though. You know when someone’s your Facebook friend because you used to be actual friends and then at some point you’ve stopped being friends with them in “real life” and then you’re just Facebook friends? If you’re not friends with somebody, but not blocked from seeing their Facebook page, then I think they either couldn’t be bothered to delete you, or they don’t want to delete you because they want to keep up with you.

I guess that’s comforting when it’s an estranged ex boyfriend, but not so comforting when it’s a former mutual friend who started sleeping with him after you broke up. For example.

I find myself wondering “Has this person thought about deleting me but didn’t because they secretly deep down think I’m fly for days?”

You know, I’ll block a motherf'er who crosses me like they’ll drop dead if I press the “Unfriend” button. I’m like “SEE YA, BITCHES!” because hell no you don’t get to enjoy the links I post and see who I’m hanging out with if you’re a source of negativity in my life. That’s a distinct privilege reserved for those people on the planet who have yet to properly piss me off.

But then there are totally people that I don’t talk to, that I don’t give a shit enough about to go through my Facebook privacy settings for. They’re just inconsequential to me. I guess I feel like that's the world I was in last night. You're not friends, but you're certainly not not friends. What a bizarre friendship realm.

I'm glad I went though. I'm glad I was invited. I'm not really in a position to decline invitations to social events. Even if I was only invited as a technicality, I'm going to pretend I was invited because people wanted me to be there.

I'm not a gin drinker. When I think of gin, I think of old people hooked up to machines and playing cards with each other in their pajamas. Apparently, though, that stereotype was completely correct, because within an hour or two of drinking gin and lime juice, I was ready to go put on a hoodie and watch Breaking Bad while eating guacamole. On a couch. Which everybody knows is step 1 to becoming an old person hooked up to a machine and playing cards in her jammies.

This morning I forced myself to do a strenuous 30-minute workout and then I made myself a cup of French press coffee. I'm not drinking it. I just wanted my house to smell like coffee. I also made eggs. I'm trying to use my kitchen like a functioning adult because I keep getting drain flies from lack of usage. I poured the neon acid that melts drain hair down the sink three times yesterday to hopefully kill them all, because even I draw the line somewhere RE: not killing bugs.

Anyway. I'm going to shower this musk off of myself. I can't pinpoint what I smell like. I don't like not being able to pinpoint things.