Zombies keep blogs too
I'd just like a moment to say fucking hell. I haven't been on here in months.
Good god, I am a shit.
I know not a lot people come over here, because I am an insane person with no friends, and insane people don't make friends on the reg, but my bb Nicky has probably spent the last five months thinking "Oh not again."
Here's the thing: I had major drama with my computer. Like, I had to use fucking industrial clips on my screen just to, you know, see things other than lines of pretty colors spazzing out. And the cooling fan went nuts and pretended to be a lawn mower. Every time I turned on my computer I was subtly looking around to see which murderer was brandishing the chainsaw. Who wants to use a computer that shitty?
New computer now, courtesy of two new part time jobs. Which also contribute to my lack of presence, because two part-time jobs where I'm working basically full-time hours doesn't leave a lot of time for internet geeking.
Yeah, short entry. Just announcing that I am not dead, and that at some point I will starting posting stuff on the reg. I've been inspired a lot by Gossip Girl, which kind of started in May (see below, all wayward souls who find themselves in this purgatory blog) and has just kept... going. I am so fucking lame I've gone right through lame and ended up in awesomeland. I think.
Maybe.
Shit, whatever. This show is becoming my life.
Also, fun time to mention that I was nearly hospitalized yesterday after going home from work because I have an interesting mix of mild TSS (toxic shock syndrome) and reached the critical levels before clinical starvation.
Can I just point out how fucking hilarious it is that I forgot to eat for four days? This isn't even an eating disorder thing, I just forgot food. I've done this before, but yesterday I realized the only thing I'd eaten since Sunday was a goddamn plum. That's just like, too funny. In a self-depricating way, perhaps, but who does that shit? Oh right, my idiot self. So now I have to eat every two hours while I'm awake and my stomach is the size of a walnut.
No, seriously, I am a walking disaster and I love it. I love that I can make fun of myself so easily. All the stupid shit I do is sitcom material on like, a Heathers-style dark comedy.
Good god, I am a shit.
I know not a lot people come over here, because I am an insane person with no friends, and insane people don't make friends on the reg, but my bb Nicky has probably spent the last five months thinking "Oh not again."
Here's the thing: I had major drama with my computer. Like, I had to use fucking industrial clips on my screen just to, you know, see things other than lines of pretty colors spazzing out. And the cooling fan went nuts and pretended to be a lawn mower. Every time I turned on my computer I was subtly looking around to see which murderer was brandishing the chainsaw. Who wants to use a computer that shitty?
New computer now, courtesy of two new part time jobs. Which also contribute to my lack of presence, because two part-time jobs where I'm working basically full-time hours doesn't leave a lot of time for internet geeking.
Yeah, short entry. Just announcing that I am not dead, and that at some point I will starting posting stuff on the reg. I've been inspired a lot by Gossip Girl, which kind of started in May (see below, all wayward souls who find themselves in this purgatory blog) and has just kept... going. I am so fucking lame I've gone right through lame and ended up in awesomeland. I think.
Maybe.
Shit, whatever. This show is becoming my life.
Also, fun time to mention that I was nearly hospitalized yesterday after going home from work because I have an interesting mix of mild TSS (toxic shock syndrome) and reached the critical levels before clinical starvation.
Can I just point out how fucking hilarious it is that I forgot to eat for four days? This isn't even an eating disorder thing, I just forgot food. I've done this before, but yesterday I realized the only thing I'd eaten since Sunday was a goddamn plum. That's just like, too funny. In a self-depricating way, perhaps, but who does that shit? Oh right, my idiot self. So now I have to eat every two hours while I'm awake and my stomach is the size of a walnut.
No, seriously, I am a walking disaster and I love it. I love that I can make fun of myself so easily. All the stupid shit I do is sitcom material on like, a Heathers-style dark comedy.