I r spetshul
Yesterday was sure a day. I'm not allowed to not eat breakfast any more. At the hospital I walked into the men's room by mistake, and yes, it was occupied. It was very embarrassing. Forget global wabu, we need to institute global standardization of which side of a room the men's room entrance is on!
I'm done with classes for the semester, hooray... which means I get to work right up until I fly to NH for xmas. Whee? Grades look good except for speech, which may be a C and I just don't care. Fuck it right in the ear.
Apparently Jason's dad's friends now identify me as the girl who fell asleep under the pool table during the last big party.
Going to go see Golden Compass tomorrow hopefully, hooray!
Sounds like our neighbors have caught the rat. It never actually showed up on our side of the house because of our cats, efficient brutal rodent catchers that they are (cough). Last night/godduckingearly morning we heard squeaking and much running. I hope they got it, I don't want to have to bathe Tumaini and get crapped on again.
So, I'm at work this morning and I've been trying to find material for a course I'm writing on teen suicide. I ended up flipping through one book that looked okay, until I get to where it listed causes of depression. #3.... Attacks by Satan!
No kidding. Attacks by Satan. I looked more closely at the book and it was full of 'helpful' scripture.... And this winner was just sitting muddled in with therapy books. Faith-based therapy sure works for some people, don't get me wrong. But this was not really so much faith based therapy as way out on the edge of the park masturbating to pictures of potatoes crazy. Attacks by Satan? Oy. This reminds me of the time my mother admitted she wanted to smack her sister because she apparently suggested that my depression might be a 'spiritual problem.' Oh my family. I am looking so forward to seeing some of them.