Drinking again.

The first drink was a ice cold PBR served to me by a beautiful blonde covered in tattoos. Very down to earth too, not a bimbo, what you think when you think blonde.

She wore tight jeans and a shirt with the sides cut a little short so you can see her hips. Imagine what your hands would feel like on them. That’s why I’m wearing this shirt. I like smiling at you.

Should have asked her out. Need to relish in the rejection. Not lay my head down until I’ve been rejected by a minimum of 1 woman a day. I have no idea what my standing in the world is. I’m a 10 to some, a 5 to others but you really can’t tell until you query a result.

But I don’t. Moments lost that honestly you cannot really go back to. I have to get dedicated to it tho. Situps every morning. Rejection everyday.

Carol told me today that I have to work on my story for when I meet people. I’m too fucking depressing. She didn’t say it but she’s right. I have to work on my story. Immediately. Right now.

She honestly said she couldn’t help me until I figured out what I wanted to do with my life. How sad is it that I don’t know that now, fuck.