Archive for July 8th, 2010

I’m sitting here waiting for some sweet relief, trying to find some way in hell to calm my sorry, sad ass down.  I’m thinking about making a post or not and, well, I guess there’s no thought involved.  Here I am typing.  I’ve got this Irish accent running through my head even as I’m doing it.  But I’m not writing it phonetically.  Or, even in any other “linguistic manner” that you could recognize it that way.  But that’s not even the point.  Why the hell did I even bring that up?

I don’t know what happened today.  All I know is that as soon as I left the house, I need a Valium immediately.  Even that didn’t make sense.  So far, I’ve taken three today and they haven’t done shite.  Well, maybe the third made a slight dent.  Now, I’m home and had downed all my sleep meds, plus some Gravol.  It’s late again and I have to get up early for that part time job thingy.  That I don’t even care about anymore.

After today, hell, even before today it was bad enough.  Trying to hang on to the tiny things that have been good lately has been tough.  Now? I fake a laugh.  But it’s really more a maniacal cackle.  Although, tonight, it became downright evil.  Evil PA.

Did I ever know I had an evil side? If I did, was I in denial or just too fucking stupid to not see it! Well, I did tonight! I don’t get physically violent.  I NEVER do!!! But at my friend J.’s tonight, I told him that if I did, his apartment would have been destroyed while we were having dinner.

Then, on the way home, I saw this couple.  They were beautiful.  So attractive looking.  They looked so in love.  And you know what? I wanted to bash their heads in, and bleed them to a bloody pulp! I wanted to yell at them, “Go fuck yourselves!” Then, I sort of laughed in my head.  “Go fuck yourselves.”

Right.  That’s what you do–every night when you go home together.  Fuck yourselves.  Well, in me kicking the shit out of you and telling you to go fuck yourselves, maybe I’m sending you a message.  It’s the reason why I’m staying away from relationships.  You just get “fucked” in the end.

Postscript: there was a hell of a lot more “Evil PA” going on tonight.  I just didn’t write about it here.

So, after that “ridiculous” “thought provoking” “confusing” “stupid” “_____” post, written extremely late last night, you get a very boring one now.

I’m just killing time a bit, having tea, sitting with wet hair as I just got out of the shower.  I have to go see Sweetie GP and get all nekkid, as I need to have an “Annual Physical.”  I don’t think I’ve had one in three years! Not through any fault of my own (well, intended fault!) I don’t think either of us had the opportunity.  She’s had two kids within that time frame and…well, I’ve been continually going mental.  It’s a full time job.

So, I’m getting dressed today and normally, I wouldn’t give a toss what I wore.  She loves me warts and all! *laughing*  I have to see J. later and then we’re going to an appt. with a bank.  Ugh.  Not.In.The.Mood.For.Him.  Anyway, I feel I should look somewhat…”professional?” However, this bloody “heatwave” we’re dealing with is unreal.  And you know it’s nuts if wee PA, the human ice cube, says it’s hot outside.  Indeed.  She’s actually wearing T-shirts and shorts!

I’m continuing to look for a decent T-shirt.  My shorts are all crazy as they need to be ironed, except this one pair that are a very sturdy cotton.  Walking shorts, basically.  Not to mention, everything is so damn huge!!! Everything’s too big for me!! But walking/bermuda shorts you can get away with as looking big?

Now, a damn shirt! Where are all of my decent shirts? I’m wearing a golf shirt (it was a gift.)  Hey, at least it’s Ralph Lauren! I couldn’t look more preppy if you literally threw me into a John Hughes movie.  I thought I’d be a rebel and not tuck it in.  Nope.  Even though it’s a size S it still looks like a dress on me.

I’d better get going.  At least I finished all the documentation necessary to mail for today (more scholarship/bursary jazz.)  Le sigh.

Earlier today, right now…even lately…? Well, read the title.  It’s so hard to figure out…? What could I be? *snicker*

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not fooling you like the female reincarnation of Holden Caulfield that I apparently seem to be.  No.  I’m just trying to figure shit out!

So, let’s talk about conflict. Like, why am I blogging while I should be sleeping? I need to get up early tomorrow! Egad! What am I going to do??? Or, what if you don’t even like this post??? That’s going to create more conflict in my head! And then I just won’t be able to figure out MORE shit in my head!!!

I’m sorry.  That’s my SISA coming out.  If you don’t know, I have a disorder called “Supreme Idiot and Stupendous Arse.”  They haven’t put it into the new DSM coming out but that’s because it’s never been properly studied.  See, you look around the world and NTs look the same? But me? No, joking.  I have an extreme case.

But back to me being a lot of things? Well, the problem is, I’m getting a lot of feedback from a lot of sources, ‘see? Which is fine, ’cause that’s life.  However, things get a bit more complicated because I get my OWN feedback.  But that only makes sense because we don’t live in a vacuum.  Which, when you think about it, is a good thing.  Who’d want to be trapped in this awful, fast, spinny thing full of dust and dirt forever!


Anyway, so this whole “feedback” thing.  You can’t escape it, right? And yet.  You still get stuck in a vacuum.  Whether you’re getting feedback or not from someone else, or whether you’re getting feedback or not from yourself…

Thus, I could be a lot of things but…  I don’t quite know right now.

I need more feedback.