September 17, 2003 :: 12:51 a.m.
I can't type sometimes. Like now.
Okay, I'm tired. Really, really tired. Fatigue is like the only thing I'm capable of feeling lately. Physically, anyway. Not that I'm usually a light-speed ball of zip and pep and cheer or anything, but damn. I took my demon spawn computer over to Adam's tonight to be tinkered with (more on that later), and while he was working on it I totally zonked out on his bed. And it hurt, literally. Whenever I fall asleep unexpectedly, or even take a nap on purpose, I wake up with an aching head and burning eyes. It's not the most pleasant sensation in the world, let me tell you. And it really ruins the appeal of napping altogether, because hello, pain? I know I tend to abuse you at times, but I really don't appreciate this invasion of my precious beauty sleep. I need all the help I can get here, man. Seriously.
In other news: school sucks, I continue to procrastinate like mad, my head hurts, and tomorrow (or today, rather) is Adam and I's 34th monthiversary. I am poor and thus have nothing to give him, not even a card. This makes me feel rather like shit that's been left to bake in the sun and collect flies. I had plans to make him some things, but then school started demanded actual WORK and I have no money to buy craft supplies and everything just went to hell. I really need to find a job. I applied at Borders again, but I don't think I have to give anyone the first three notes to that tune anymore.
"Sorry, no job for you. You're fully qualified to sell books, in that you can read and have what seems to be an above-average love of printed material, but nope, it's just not going to happen. Yes, we are aware that you would directly deposit a good portion of your paycheck back here at the store each week. That's irrelevant. What matters here is that we hate you. We loathe the sight of you. We shower the ground with kerosene and throw down lit matches in your wake. But you can keep trying, honey. Rejecting you gives us that deep-down tingling sensation that no massage can replicate. Mmm, yeah."
I hate reality.
Oh, my computer. It sucks. It is evil incarnate and I am afraid to turn my back on it, left it manifest its dark nature in some new and deeply inconvenient way. Like today, when it took to restarting itself over and over whenever I'd try to turn it on. I have no idea where that came from, as I didn't change a damn thing before I turned it off last night. Adam laid hands on it for over two hours and eventually it started working again, semi-properly. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but it had to have been something big. And I do hope I enjoyed it, because this? Is not something I can deal with unless I really enjoyed massacring those sorority girls in a past life.
Anyway, sleepy. Very very. I'll update tomorrow if my computer decides to work, and if there's anything to say. I've been sadly lacking in that department lately. I apologize, but it's really for the best. I'd rather not write at all than write crap that no one wants to read about. Ce la vie, or something. Goodnight.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005