Quarter-Life Crisis.

There are six ways to cure a headache, and then you realize you're fucked.

1. Excedrin
2. Water
3. Sleep
4. Masturbation/Sex
5. Food
6. Caffeine

1. Took 9 total. Didn't do a thing
2. I don't think I could drink any more water. My pee could have been taken directly out of the toilet and would've tasted JUST LIKE IT.
3. I just keep dreaming about aliens. Where is the invasion? I'm waiting patiently.
4. Ah yes. Did that. Not the sex part. But definitely tried to fix this headache with a little alone time. All it did was increase my libido. I'm close to fucking anything that moves now.
5. Oh yeah. Tried that. Made a tuna sandwich when I got home. Fish has Omega-3. Supposed to help headaches. Didn't.
6. Had a Full Throttle tonight and laughed at Asians. Did it cure my headache? No

After much internal debate, I have realized I'm screwed. This perpetual headache is never going to go away, because I can't get laid.
Guys somehow just know that I'm on the brink of desperation. So they laugh and stay as far away as possible.
I hugged a guy tonight, and I got all friggen happy in my pants over it! DON'T EVEN LIKE HIM.
And do you know what I blame it on?

'Gilmore Girls'. And Logan Huntsberger.
I was forbidden to watch that show. I remember why, now.

The worst part? I'm not even PMSing.

Seriously. It's like the last penis that entered my vagina has tainted me.

I'm frustrated in multiple dimensions!

I want to be in a constant state of flux between sobriety and drunken whoreyness.
That means I need vodka, ice cream, a texting party, and possibly some weed.
Oh. And Jensen Ackles in tiny boxer briefs would NOT hurt, AT ALL.