I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I wake very early, and wallow in the deliciousness of my bed and the fact that I can stay there for a long time with nothing expected of me. This morning I watched a spider lower itself down from the ceiling into my clean laundry basket (what? you use drawers? boring). I had every intention of getting up to deal with that disturbing reality, but I forgot until just now. I wonder if there’s an egg sac in my jeans pocket.
I am in a lotto quagmire. Seven of us from work throw in $4 per week for our shot at the millions, but we never win shit. The lowly groups always win the big prize though, right? If I bow out, they will surely hit it big. On a related note, when we win, can we really all quit work on the same day?
If that country dork goes to the final Idol, I shall puke.
I’m strangely addicted to Words. I’m not good at it! Yet I am transfixed. When it’s not my turn, I stew. When it is my turn, I invent genius letter combinations for the elusive 68 point turn. These should be words! Who wrote the dictionary, anyway?! Vuadmig should totally be a word. A triple word at that.
I can’t stand that we’re talking about the next presidential election already. Talk to me about something else, okay? Jesus.
My idea of a perfect hangover is to be horizontal watching lifetime dramas all the day.
Is there anything more depressing than blogging about the status of your knees?
I can’t believe they have not voted Boston Rob out. They are handing him one million dollars.
I don’t care what you say, this is fucking genius. I only rejected it because everyone who reads my posts is already my facebook fan and has thus seen it 50 times already. This is the new language that my family speaks. yeah?: