Gay or European?

There’s a particular strain of insanity that encourages the kind of decision making that involves breaking up, reconciling, and buying tickets to Madrid all in the same night, but it should come as no surprise that I’m right there in the middle of it.

Moving my life to a coast where the concept of pizza is a sliced tomato on focaccia has made it really easy to start throwing punches while making any sort of life choice impossible to make. It’s like being high while trying to do your taxes, only replace ‘high’ with ‘poor’ and ‘taxes’ with nothing because I’m pretty sure eating graham crackers in my underwear doesn’t bring in any reportable income. This doesn’t mean that there’s a guaranteed happy ending (dirty), it just means that as usual, I don’t know what I’m doing.

So, I’m leaving today with my former ex but now current boyfriend for a two week trip to Europe. If I don’t make it back, you guys can fight it out for my copy of Son in Law.

bad decisions fighting my life should have training wheels relationships this is as good as a will