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It's 9:25 on a Saturday morning, and I've already been up for two hours.
Fuck.
I had a really restless night which featured lots of dreams about my UK peeps. I now have the overwhelming desire to go over there and check up on everybody.
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Last night I got my new schedule for the Blood Bank, and I am on midnight shift for the next four weeks. Double fuck.
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I have turned into a High Maintenance Girlfriend. I am hoping that this is a temporary abberation caused by being temporarily crazy, and not the emergence of a true High Maintenance Girlfriend self that just never had a chance to come out before.
'Cause I mean, bitch please.
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I have to go clothes shopping soon. The very idea makes me want to stick a fetchingly accessorized hat-pin through my temple.
I hate women's clothes. I hate the fact that nothing fits. I hate the insane prices on everything. I hate that nothing ever has pockets and everything seems to be designed to show off the parts of my body I like the least. I hate the appalling things that count as "fashion" and the insipid colours and the roving salewomen who try to sneak up on me and gang-dress me in prints.
I may have to put a serious dent in my non-drinking just to get through it.
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I was watching somebody eat a doughnut at the streetcar stop the other day and I was thinking about how fascinated I am by watching strangers eat in public. I think it has to do with the fact that we have our eyes in the front of our head, when humans eat we are so focused on our food for those few minutes that we are completely oblivous to anything else around us. It's complete vulnerability. That fascinates me.
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On the other hand, I am in no way similarily fascinated by the prospect of strangers taking a dump.
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On the plus side, I am going to Puerto Rico in a couple of months. How bad can life be?
Fuck.
I had a really restless night which featured lots of dreams about my UK peeps. I now have the overwhelming desire to go over there and check up on everybody.
Last night I got my new schedule for the Blood Bank, and I am on midnight shift for the next four weeks. Double fuck.
I have turned into a High Maintenance Girlfriend. I am hoping that this is a temporary abberation caused by being temporarily crazy, and not the emergence of a true High Maintenance Girlfriend self that just never had a chance to come out before.
'Cause I mean, bitch please.
I have to go clothes shopping soon. The very idea makes me want to stick a fetchingly accessorized hat-pin through my temple.
I hate women's clothes. I hate the fact that nothing fits. I hate the insane prices on everything. I hate that nothing ever has pockets and everything seems to be designed to show off the parts of my body I like the least. I hate the appalling things that count as "fashion" and the insipid colours and the roving salewomen who try to sneak up on me and gang-dress me in prints.
I may have to put a serious dent in my non-drinking just to get through it.
I was watching somebody eat a doughnut at the streetcar stop the other day and I was thinking about how fascinated I am by watching strangers eat in public. I think it has to do with the fact that we have our eyes in the front of our head, when humans eat we are so focused on our food for those few minutes that we are completely oblivous to anything else around us. It's complete vulnerability. That fascinates me.
On the other hand, I am in no way similarily fascinated by the prospect of strangers taking a dump.
On the plus side, I am going to Puerto Rico in a couple of months. How bad can life be?