June 11, 2002 :: 10:12 p.m.
sometimes up is down and I feel like I'm walking on sky
Grr. I've had a horrendous headache for the last three hours or so, and I couldn't find any aspirin. I couldn't believe it, but I looked and there weren't any. So I called Adam, and we were talking and what not... I came out to get another glass of water and decided to check one more time for something - Tylenol, Aleve, anything. Of course I find a new bottle of Bayer hiding at the back of the cabinet. After hours of throbbing and aching and pain and ow and angry rodents clawing at the inside of my eyes. Blah. I took some a while ago, and the headache is fading, but not fast enough. When are scientists going to stop torturing innocent bunnies and whip me up a batch of InstaAspirin? Come on, it can't be that hard.
I've been ungodly hungry all night. I had kind of an insubstantial dinner - broccoli and zucchini, steamed, plain - but it was good, and as low-cal as you can get without eating a hunk of ice with some water sauce on top. But it didn't fill me up for long, so I just had some oatmeal. Yum yum. Theoretically, it should "stick to my ribs," as they say, and sate my hunger for the rest of the evening. I'm thinking that's not going to be the case, though, because it's only been like half an hour and I'm starting to feel all grumbly and empty again. I know it's not thirst, because I've had about 12 glasses of water tonight... I think I should just cut myself gills and live in the bathtub. Mer. I'm probably so voracious because I burned a gazillion calories today, hauling my fat ass all over the woods. And that's good. But good lord, I feel like I could eat everything in the house right now. You know, except for all the meat stuff. And there's a lot of food here.
Uh... okay, enough food talk. The Hawk Mountain thing has been moved to Sunday, to my relief. So that's good. Tomorrow is Adam's birthday (brother Adam) - he'll be 23. Freaky. I'll have to give him a late present, probably on Sunday, because I'm dirt poor and don't get paid until Friday. That's fine, though. He's not expecting anything from me, anyway, as far as I can tell. Serious note to self: Put some goddamn money in the bank this week! You suck, you can't hold on to money, so keep it in your savings account. That's what it's for.
The really sad part is that I didn't buy myself anything this week. Except for gas and stuff. And a CD. And a CD case. Okay, fine, I bought myself about $30 worth of music paraphernalia and the necessary gas to go to Knoebel's Grove and Bushkill Falls. Where the rest of my check went, I have no idea. Most likely to food and little things like that. Because I'm a grocery whore. I am, it's weird. It goes very well with my cookbook fetish. I adore grocery shopping. Someday when I actually have a reason to cook, I'll be in heaven, indulging two vices at once. Like a masochistic heroine addict, getting their "high" and jabbing themselves with pointy objects in the process. Fun!
Ugh, I'm tired. 'Night.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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