|
SPECIAL PURPOSE 2003-03-13 | 9:44 a.m. The server is down, being replaced, switched, whatever. I’m writing this on word to post tomorrow. I feel like shite. I have no energy anymore. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I have watched about six hours of T.V. today and it’s sucking out my life minute by minute. I feel the slow drain but don’t have the power to stop it. Maybe I have mono. Probably not but I’d like to have something (other than laziness) to blame for the sloth that is Stare Girl. Would somebody like to come over and smash my telley. I can’t do it myself because that would mean no more That 70’s Show, but if I came home tomorrow and there were bits of plastic and glass laying about the place I would feel a great sense of relief. The monkey would be off my back and I might start going to the gym again. My lack of energy could be attributed to the fact that I have eaten no vegetables or fruit in two days. I went to the store and bought cheese, bread, burritos, and crackers. Too much starch. I’m turning into a grain. Slowly but surely my brain is turning to shredded wheat and my stomach feels like a bowl of corn flakes. I don’t want to eat it. I just do it. It’s easy, you know. Preparing a whole meal for one is not only too much effort but it makes me feel lonely. You know how it’s really fun to make dinner with someone else when you listen to music and drink a glass of wine and joke around with one another. It’s a great thing to do, but alone it’s not the same. Sitting down at the table/couch and trying to carry on a conversation with yourself about the album you’re listening to is kind of hard. And who’s going to compliment you on the great job you did on the stuffed tomatoes? Where is my fucking boyfriend?! Damn I know he’s really busy and everything but I have needs. I need someone to entertain me. No, no, no I’m just kidding. That’s really selfish. Okay I’m only kind of kidding. I really do wish he were here though. Whispering sweet ghetto slang in my ear. Trying to stick his finger in my belly button (much to my dismay). Being all stinky and sweaty and shit cause he just got done riding his bike all over the world. Now that makes me want to cook some veggies. I want to be a veggie provider for my man. There we go I’ve found my purpose in life. Cooker of vegetables. Actually, you know, maybe I want a little more out of life than that but for right now, this moment, it would do. I don’t want to go on any longer with this tangent about my miserable state of being so I release you. Go forth and eat a banana then do some jumping jacks. Bye
|