2005-05-09
I'm sick of British chick lit
My shirt is a size 4.
I don't feel like talking on the phone.
I wore gold instead of silver.
I wish that laying out could be my job.
I feel like I wake up thinking that it's Saturday everyday and then...
it's not.
I hate those stupid forwards from you.
My hair's getting really long.
I don't miss the sex.
I didn't mess with that formula.
I'm not sure I can get all my work done on time.
I've never been in the hospital and I hate people who think getting sick isn't a big deal. It IS a big deal if you're not familiar with illness.
I have less and less of a problem spending 28 hours without talking to any human beings - not on the phone, not at my door, and not at the store.
I wish there was one person who loves me desperately and with awe. Nobody puts Sarah in a corner.
I'm sick of cable TV.
I'm sick of British chick lit.
There's never enough time for me to be not doing the things I'm not doing. I'm getting old and I know it and I hate it because it's not me and someday, the chasm between my maturity and my physical age is going to blow up and spew lava and gases all over whatever is in it's path. Obviously, I would be there and be injured.
I think I believe in a conspiracy to eliminate the left.
I believe there will be a resistance movement in my lifetime and I believe I will not hesitate to join it.
I want to have a good summer - me, the married couples, my doglet, and hopefully someone will come along who wants to kiss me. Should you find yourself dating yourself, it's basically impossible to make-out with yourself. NOTE: I haven't noticed too many other drawbacks.
Sometimes, it's totally someone else's fault.
Perspective might be the very, most important thing in relating. Lots of people think I'm lucky and lot's of people feel sorry for me and somewhere in ther midst, there are 2 or 3 people who don't care about figuring it out - they just let everything roll and I like those people maybe the most of everyone.
I'm defintely scared that I'll make the worse choice and more precious time will drip through the fingers on the hand that I am trying to hold this slimy, gooey life in. I should probably wipe the hand on the ground, or let the stuff drip into a jar, poke some holes in the lid and see what happens.
I cry a lot. I mean, a LOT.
I don't really want to change things that happened - I just want so much for something amazing to happen for me now. I keep thinking that it will happen, although lots of people tell me that living the dream doesn't get any better than where I am now.
I've been prone to nightmares for a long time, so....
yeah.
I'm not convinced of my life in dreams.
I'm ready to admit that I'm a little lonely and not cover that admission with a joke or a paragraph designed to make people feel sorry for me. I'm lonely. It just is and that's okay. It's just feeling lonely and that feeling goes away after awhile.
It's been a heavy year and I'm kind of in awe that I did it poorly, loudly, pathetically, and with very little regard to other people. I did it and it's about fucking time for me to be able to say all of those things about the last year. I needed to have less regard for people. If you got hurt in all of this, then you know me and love me enough to understand that it had to go down this way because I became a woman in a car on a cliff with an army approaching in the heat. I had to act and I got too desperate to do it in any other way.
I'm not that sorry; it was kind of fated, maybe.
I still have to tell my employer about this because I am running out of PTO.
Don't lose your patience with me. I'm soft and cute and I really will follow you around forever. I don't have anything else to prove. Actually, I might have done well to never have been forced into the idea of having something to prove because all along, there was nothing. I was cool with everything and I trotted along, showing off and letting people pet me. I would have been well-suited to remain in the guilded cage.
Fuck you all for kicking me out.
There was nothing out there that I needed or wanted and now I have a bunch of crap that I have to clean up because my cage got all abandonned and rusty.
Fuck you.
The least y'all can do is take some of that CLR in the corner and take this old tee-shirt and start working to help me get it the way I liked it in the first place.
*sigh*
Maybe I do want a baby.
arizonasarah at 4:09 p.m.