Have you ever decided you should be pissed off about something, because it's just the way things are supposed to be? I realize now, for once, I have a choice. Extreme, vile anger or pure, clean, ignorant apathy.
Yesterday, I chose anger.
Today, I believe I will choose apathy.
Yesterday sucked.
I don't know why I'm awake at 7:00 am. I woke up go a churning stomach and a strange sort of dizziness. I have felt weird the past week or so. Nothing I can quite put my finger on. Sort of how I used to feel after a night of drinking a fifth of Apple Pucker as a teenager, and being amazed at the neon blob that was my vomit the next morning.
I didn't puke, yet. I feel like I could.
Of course, I have paranoid thoughts of pregnancy. But in my experience, you are only knocked up when you least expect it. When you "have a bad feeling", you usually aren't.
I'm pretty sure that using that theory will prevent me from creating future spawn.
-Damn. I forgot to put the garbage out by the road. Just heard the truck.-
I must tell you, that I'm 95% sure that Baxter isn't quite all there. One goose short of a gaggle. Or something. I can never remember any of those sayings that are supposed to describe someone or something that is slow. Anway, he has no regard for his own safety and often hurls himself into walls, off tall structures, and into other cats. The other cats do not appreciate this. He also falls asleep spontaniously. One minute he's galavanting around on some exciting adventure, the next he is doing this:


It's literally a minute. He is totally a narcoleptic cat. PS. That's not my big hairy arm with the Marine Corp tat. I wish I could say it was. I would fair well in prison with an arm like that, I think, if it came down to it.
The New Guy is coming over tonight to make me dinner. He refuses to tell me what he's making, and that makes me want to know even more. I love surprises, but the anticipation does indeed kill me. But all pretend like, not literally. I always MUST KNOW things I MUST NOT KNOW. This sometimes sucks, because there are some things people just aren't supposed to find out. Hurtful things. It's the masochistic side of me. Hurt me good, please.
I'm not sure how I went from talking about The New Guy to talking about J in the same paragraph, but I did. Oh, you didn't know I was talking about J? Yes, he is the one that might as well have sharpened steak knives attached to his hands, that way when he hugs me, he can stab me in the back at the same time. I love it.
I need to focus on The New Guy. He is sort of like, perfect, I guess the word is. I wish he'd make himself a touch more unavailable, because then I'd fall for him for sure. I don't usually go for people that actually like me. That would be much too easy.
I must, at the very least, think he's worth my time because I'm missing Lost for him tonight. Oh, I have DVR, don't worry. I can watch it tomorrow, completely alone so there is silence and no one to say one word, because there is to be no talking during Lost. I even put the cats in their room for the hour. This show is that good.
Why is it that new pregnancy symptoms insist on being very similar to PMS symptoms? That does not help with the paranoia, God.
Dear God, It's me. Do not ruin my life by making it true that there are cells forming into a heartbeat right now, K? Thanks. Signed, Me.