Life is flat, stale and unprofitable
-A crappy author is being hailed like she's the best thing to hit literature since Shakespeare. A book that's going to break my heart is going to be attacking my eyes and sensibilities, rubbing salt in the wound, every time I go into a bookstore for the foreseeable future, taking away my havens.
-The Red Sox are stumbling and to make matters worse, the Yankees are surging.
-From Monday, work starts at 8 which means I have to wake up at 5:30.
-My law school personal statement is a congealed blob of incoherence in my head that's refusing to be put on paper.
-And incidentally, there are the minor things like the fact that we're embroiled in a quagmire in a country that will remain nameless, because the people of this country are too stupid to recognize a jackass and a liar when he stands in front of them in cowboy boots; the Pope is trying to take the Catholic Church back about, oh, a couple centuries or so at least; Dems in Congress have their hands tied behind their backs and one ankle as well, thanks to their razor-thin majority-- and then are being blamed for not being able to run a marathon while hopping on one foot; the work pants I ordered are on back-order and are therefore not being shipped any time soon; and by the by, I'm still pissed off at the idiots at NBC who cancelled what was probably the most intelligent show in tv and deprived me of a weekly dose of Brad (with glasses).
All in all, not in a good mood and not having a good day.
And while I'm not in any danger of throwing myself off a building, I think I'm going to curl up in bed and watch P&P (the non-blasphemous one) and have a chocolate cake for dinner (because that's healthy).
4 hours of uneasy sleep last night, and no more than 5 hours of uneasy sleep every night for the past week has clearly wreaked havoc on my mood.
Eat, drink, try to be merry-- for tomorrow we die.
*goes to curl up in my bed*
-The Red Sox are stumbling and to make matters worse, the Yankees are surging.
-From Monday, work starts at 8 which means I have to wake up at 5:30.
-My law school personal statement is a congealed blob of incoherence in my head that's refusing to be put on paper.
-And incidentally, there are the minor things like the fact that we're embroiled in a quagmire in a country that will remain nameless, because the people of this country are too stupid to recognize a jackass and a liar when he stands in front of them in cowboy boots; the Pope is trying to take the Catholic Church back about, oh, a couple centuries or so at least; Dems in Congress have their hands tied behind their backs and one ankle as well, thanks to their razor-thin majority-- and then are being blamed for not being able to run a marathon while hopping on one foot; the work pants I ordered are on back-order and are therefore not being shipped any time soon; and by the by, I'm still pissed off at the idiots at NBC who cancelled what was probably the most intelligent show in tv and deprived me of a weekly dose of Brad (with glasses).
All in all, not in a good mood and not having a good day.
And while I'm not in any danger of throwing myself off a building, I think I'm going to curl up in bed and watch P&P (the non-blasphemous one) and have a chocolate cake for dinner (because that's healthy).
4 hours of uneasy sleep last night, and no more than 5 hours of uneasy sleep every night for the past week has clearly wreaked havoc on my mood.
Eat, drink, try to be merry-- for tomorrow we die.
*goes to curl up in my bed*