Earlier today I was remarking that with what was going on in my life this week, I really needed cheesecake and wine to restore my mental equilibrium. Well. I'm upgrading that to Jamesons and ativan. (Or klonopin or xanax. I'm not picky. Any benzo will do at this point.)
On the plus side, and there's always a plus side, right, kids?, this is the kind of stress that totally makes me stop eating, so I'm sure I can knock off five pounds of excess fat like *that*. I mean, I do not even want cheesecake now.
There will be baseball tonight, right? Or is it raining in Washington too? Baseball usually distracts me from bad thoughts. Maybe playing with my bumpits would help as well. Or maybe youtube. I dunno. I've done productive stuff all afternoon since I realized this situation is gonna cost me more money than I originally feared and being productive has done crap in the way of distraction. So slovenly time-wasting is obviously the way to go. That, and benzos. Ha!
Once again, those of you who do not have anxiety disorders and thus do not make yourself sick over things you cannot fix or help, please call your parents and thank them for the good genetics. Because, seriously, you've got no idea.
I should have a tag for this. Should I go back and retroactively tag all the gazillion old ones?
xoxo
5 comments:
Neener neener! With the crappy weather, the Beast has been rattling its cage, and that means...klonopin for dessert! No cloud without a silver lining (Heh heh).
And no retroactive tagging (which I've thought of). That's a little OCD, doncha think?
If klonopin came on the dessert cart, I would totally pick it over cheesecake. (But I would not pick your chronic illness in order to get it :-( Sorry to hear you're feeling not so well. :-( It puts the forthcoming huge expense and stress I'm whining about into perspective, lemme tell you.)
The problem with tags is that you never know when something's going to become a recurring theme and warrant one until it's TOO LATE.
And, besides, what's wrong with a tiny little touch of blogging OCD, huh? :-)
Oh, and since THERE WAS NO BASEBALL WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME IT'S MONDAY, in my attempt to distract myself, do you know what I did? I wrote.
I've been reading, or shall I say *trying* to read someone else's manuscript for them, and that endeavor has led me to consider that the 1/3-finished second novel I tried writing *ain't bad*. Comparitively speaking. So I thought I'd drag it out. And you know, I was positive I had the whole thing backed up.
I did. On a floppy. Ha! Oh, I laughed and laughed. I guess it has been a while since I actually worked on it. So I retyped the first chapter tonight, making a few minor changes. That kept me occupied.
Having been on a coincidental five-day baseball fast, (so as to have more time for eating seafood, of course), it was all I could do not to rail at your insensitivity for suggesting there might have been a game on the most likely day of the week for a day off. The moment I realized you had been LYING to me and to the rest of your readership, I immediately had to open a beer and practice my Gandhi-like meditational skills, of which precious few seem to have survived the reincarnation.
Some bubble this is!
;-)
All that LYING obviously dooms *me* to even a worse reincarnation the next time around, Mr Gandhi. (I've decided you really must have been Gandhi, because my other choice, Schweitzer, didn't die till 1965. Too bad the meditational skills didn't survive the crossover.)
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