January 24th. Twenty-four days in to our "year without," and I can't help but feel like I should be better at this by now.

My first week back at school I honestly thought I did pretty well (that is, I didn't have any huge venting sessions with my roommate or sister...).  Feeling like maybe I was going somewhere with this, I went into week #2 with high hopes.  Never in my little idealist, optimistic mind did I ever expect an awful, embarrassing dinner disaster on Tuesday night to completely change my pace.  But it happened.  And I was not prepared.

I won't get into the gruesome details, but I was pretty much humiliated by a guy that I had been kind of seeing last semester. So I basically spent the rest of the week venting with my roommate about what I would do to this guy the next time I saw him (slap, spit, vomit, kick, you name it). And when she wasn't around to listen, I was constantly thinking about it.  On average, I spent about 23 hours and 59 minutes of the next three days in total and complete negativity.

And now I sit here writing this, feeling SO lame.  Really, Erin, you're going to let some guy completely wreck this good thing you've got going? Really, you're going to let some stupid, insignificant event take complete control of your thoughts? Yes. That's exactly what I've done.

I'm sad to say that although my anger and insane resentment towards this guy has subsided a little, it hasn't been the best few days.  But I'm making a vow now to make the last seven days of January my best of the month.  Appropriate, since tomorrow will be exactly one week since the my breakdown. Bring it on, Tuesday.

-Erin