So, as you may have gathered from previous posts, I frickin' love sertraline. I feel great, thank you very much. Before they fixed mah brainz, I dragged myself around, grudgingly went about my life, tried to fit in with all the wankers and did what was expected of me. Now, I'm zipping around enjoying every minute of every day, always doing things, laughing at the wankers and doing what the hell I want, all the damn time.
Oh my gawd, I fucken love it! So yeah. My brain is rockin' like a Machine Fuckin' Head gig. I'm all like, LET'S GO! Always working, cleaning, ironing, hanging up washing, washing up, walkin' dawgs, planning adventures, taking the car to the garage, taking dogs to vets, picking up post, going shopping... I've just come in from my busy day (2 houses, 2 dogs) and I'm sitting down on the sofa with a cuppa, typing this and thinking, 'Oh man I didn't get bread. I should get bread.' Nobody's going to care whether I got bread or not, but I feel like I HAVE to get bread, or I would've failed to complete today's schedule. Which is silly.
Baaah. I got veg and cheese and bog roll and yoghurt and MILK. I got loads of Angel Delight to put in it. WOOHOO. Why, if I'm so active, am I still such a fat bastard? Excuse moi while I roll my eyes and eat another cookie, and then go and get some damn bread.
Ummm, what else? Oh yeah: I do cleaning in Salisbury on Wednesdays now, so I be gettin' moar moneys which is good because I totally maxed my credit card last night on some flights to LA, where I will hang with
rhymeswithbooze and see Soundgarden.
aaaaaaAW HELL YEAH.