TGIF
I was supposed to go out with "Armando" tonight but I called and cancelled due to cramps and exhaustion.
Today my acupuncturist told me I have the "jing" of a feeble woman in her late sixties. I was not surprised. He stuck some burning herbs on me and some needles in me and I felt like taking a nap. He told me to drink more water and not to eat raw vegetables. I'm pretty sure I have cancer. I made some mac and cheese and slept for two hours. I think I remember inviting my acupuncturist to Christmas dinner as I was sitting in his office after the treatment, barely able to stay awake. Hm.
The other day I went out to lunch with my ex, formerly known as Superdate (or Baldy). He told me he has a fantasy about me using a strap-on to butt-fuck him. He told me most of his orgasms with his current girlfriend (and soon-to-be babymomma) have resulted from fantasies about me. My dog is scared of him.
Last night I met up with a young guy who informed me that disincarnate beings have been trying to kill him since he was a young child. My diagnosis would be slightly different. He's clearly gay, was raised by an abusive alcoholic father and enabling religious zealot mother, and explains away his night terrors and hallucinations thusly. He lectured me on Carlos Castaneda until I felt a panic attack coming on, and so I excused myself from his presence forevermore.
Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to the park with some idiot from O-side. I think he'll be getting the cancellation notice as well. He annoys the shit out of me, and it's just not worth the free dessert from Extraordinary Desserts...or is it? I guess we'll see what tomorrow brings.
Meanwhile, I am struggling over whether or not to go next door for an overpriced plate of Italian cookies. Or hell, I could run down to Little Italy for that matter. But no, leaving the house just seems like soooooo much work. And it's cold out there. It's like 50 degrees. Fuck that noise, man. Time for a good, old-fashioned bed-in.
Today my acupuncturist told me I have the "jing" of a feeble woman in her late sixties. I was not surprised. He stuck some burning herbs on me and some needles in me and I felt like taking a nap. He told me to drink more water and not to eat raw vegetables. I'm pretty sure I have cancer. I made some mac and cheese and slept for two hours. I think I remember inviting my acupuncturist to Christmas dinner as I was sitting in his office after the treatment, barely able to stay awake. Hm.
The other day I went out to lunch with my ex, formerly known as Superdate (or Baldy). He told me he has a fantasy about me using a strap-on to butt-fuck him. He told me most of his orgasms with his current girlfriend (and soon-to-be babymomma) have resulted from fantasies about me. My dog is scared of him.
Last night I met up with a young guy who informed me that disincarnate beings have been trying to kill him since he was a young child. My diagnosis would be slightly different. He's clearly gay, was raised by an abusive alcoholic father and enabling religious zealot mother, and explains away his night terrors and hallucinations thusly. He lectured me on Carlos Castaneda until I felt a panic attack coming on, and so I excused myself from his presence forevermore.
Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to the park with some idiot from O-side. I think he'll be getting the cancellation notice as well. He annoys the shit out of me, and it's just not worth the free dessert from Extraordinary Desserts...or is it? I guess we'll see what tomorrow brings.
Meanwhile, I am struggling over whether or not to go next door for an overpriced plate of Italian cookies. Or hell, I could run down to Little Italy for that matter. But no, leaving the house just seems like soooooo much work. And it's cold out there. It's like 50 degrees. Fuck that noise, man. Time for a good, old-fashioned bed-in.