I am not leaving this desk until I update my journal. That means no cigarettes, no coffee refills and definitely no eating of the nasty, bad chocolate eggs that someone has left in a tidy green bowl on the filing cabinet in the hallway. They are clearly for only the mad people, and I don’t qualify. Yet.

The tailpipe on my car is just about dragging on the ground, I haven’t changed the oil in my car which should have been done about 2000 kms ago and I keep forgetting to call my sister back about seeing my nephew this week.

However, I did buy car insurance this morning and managed to blow dry my hair without electrocuting myself with the hair dryer. Kitchen is still a mess, and the bathroom kind of scares me, but…all in all, it’s going to be ok. And I was only 1.5 hours late for work.

And I’m still eating sugar. Which could be seen as a failure or (as I see it) an unconscious decision to continue on with my unhealthy lifestyle. Despite the fact there are two heads of lettuce and numerous bottles of un opened salad dressing in the ice box. Yes, you read that right. I am now calling it an ice box.

Had a quick conversation with Craig this morning, I feel like my head is on straight now. I love talking to him. I really ought to start paying him for my whine services.

Rose and I walked our dogs in the park the other day. Apparently, it's supposed to snow here tomorrow morning, but the past few days have been really warm (where I sweat like a pig if I do more than swing my arms while walking outside) kind of weather. Anyhow, we walked the dogs in the park, where I looked like a bad, non caring sort of dog mommie, and Rose looked like the perfect english nanny kind of mommie. Her dogs were heeling, listening to her commands and following her lead. Meanwhile, Buckley was clawing at the ground and barking himself hoarse as soon as our feet hit the ground.

And he still only weighs about 9 pounds. Rose's dogs are rottwheilers (yes, I am aware I probably spelled that wrong. And used the word 'spelled') who are pushing 100 pounds each. So I guess I should be glad that my little dog is being the jerk, and not her big gigantic dogs. I think I told her I wanted to do this once a week with the dogs.

I must have been nuts. Anyhow, I should get going. They do expect me to work around here, not update my journal and leave cutesy messages for my friends on Myspace.

Werd.

Labels: Craig, drama, electrical, Gish, habits, how not to be an idiot, inspiration, late night, layers, neurotic, writing

false hope
Originally uploaded by Abstract Magdalene.

It's not so bad, this underwater business. I came up for air today to meet up with a couple of friends, then slipped quietly back into that black, black lake when it was time to go home. My camera has been at my sister's for the entire week, having only gotten it back today, I take photos of what used to be my miracle pills. The ones that put me to sleep, tucked me in, and just let me sleep. My little blue pills. Now they're just like my Fool's gold. Or in the world of doctors and pharmacists: Zopiclone.

The insomnia is getting worse with age, but I kind of expected that. Like skin, hair, teeth, things degrade as time slips by. That's ok. Although, for some reason it reminds me of this book I once read . Maybe I'll lose my last bit of string, after awhile.
I'm not the only one on this planet that can't sleep. I expect the problem to remedy itself sooner or later, regardless of what I actually do or don't do.

Listening to Simon and Garfunkel a lot lately, or Pete Yorn when I'm in bed, pretending to sleep. In a Zen-like madness I completely changed the bedroom around so that as soon as you walk in, you can fall into bed. I like that idea. Of falling into bed.

Took some frosty photos tonight, as Buckley ate snow in the front yard. I can't decide which movie to watch, so I'll probably end up reading instead. But then...

right?

In an effort to stop consuming so much sugar, I picked up some of that new Pepsi, jazz sensations something or other. It is supposed to be black cherry vanilla flavoured pepsi. So far, it just tastes like diet crap. I'm disappointed. Although, if I keep drinking it...eventually it will win me over. It's amazing what one can acclimate to if given the opportunity.

I'm excited, because it's Monday tomorrow. I will clean the bathroom and the nooks and crannies of my orange kitchen with one eye on the phone. I'll will the job offers to come in. Or whatever.

You know, I blew a fuse the other night. I was rewiring an old lamp into a hanging lamp (not such a good idea with limited training, let me tell you) and when the moment of truth came (meaning, I plugged it in) there was a bright spark and then nothing. I was confused. I had followed the directions for the other lamp (swag lamp kit) and figured a lamp is a lamp is a lamp, no matter what. Right? Right. Turns out I forget to tie a knot in the wire.

Curses! Foiled again! Just kidding. I already got the lecture from two sisters, who also took the opportunity to laugh at the crooked bookshelf I built. Seriously, it's still standing, and doing what it was made for...how bad can it be???

ok, that's it. I think this is long enough for an entry.

Good night, thanks for dropping by.

Labels: blue pills, diet pepsi, electrical, fools gold, insomnia, zopiclone