What a useless life I'm living. TV and books; so little reality. It's no wonder that when something real happens that I am clueless as to how to handle it. Maybe I'm waiting for a rewrite or maybe this is the commercial and I'm waiting for the brand name to hit the screen and a calm voice to say "Nine out of ten dentists agree..." Or a tiny choir to sing, "By Menion."

I can sit here and write this but to pick up the phone and ask a voice I don't know on the other end for help is out of my reach.

I haven't showered in a couple of days and am quite stinky. The cats are careful where they lay on the bed as to avoid the worst of it. It hardly seems worth using soap and shampoo that I can't afford to replace when I'm sitting alone in this apartment. I'll bathe when I want to impress someone. Tomorrow. I'm meeting Joe for lunch and a computer lesson. I'll smell better for my friends, that seems the way to go.

I wish I could remember what it feels like to be happy, content, and joyful. Everything's so muted, gray, and distant; it's like not being able to find a comfortable chair.

My inner diologue is clear; complaints in triplecate, insults close, and full on critisims loud and clear -- about me -- about others -- about the world -- about everything...

I think the thought that I am worthy of better, that I am a good person, but my inner hecklers are better at this than I am.

I'm not thinking of hurting myself, as the Barenaked Ladies say in one of their songs, "It's more energy than some suicides are worth..." There's too much to do when you kill yourself -- pills to hoard, notes to write, wills to make -- if I had that kind of strength I'd be able to make a phone call and get better.

Get better, have a useful life, feel the words "worthy," "good," "happy," "contentment," and maybe "love."

I'm tired.

HAHA!

I was watching Buffy, I don't know the episode name, but it's the one where the bad ex-boyfirend is turned into a big worm.

There is a shot, right after he turns from a worm back into a bad ex-boyfirend and he's supposed to be naked, but you can see he's wearing...A COCK AND BALL COZY!

Not one that I made but it was still nice to see that they're being used.

Oh, and I'm not erasing that tape.

It looks like Eva8 might be coming to SF with her hubby.

Yay!

Some good news for a change.

I've been mini posting because I'm avoiding thinking about my life and what I'm doing with it.

I can honestly say that I have wonderful friends, I do have a talent for picking lovely people to hang with and listen to me when I keep banging my head against the same wall.

Men. Tsk, I don't know why I still think about men, I should just give up. Every man I've ever been attracted to have either been too young, too married, too moving away, too not interested in me. I know there are men who like fat girls but since that's one of the bits of being me that I'm sickened by, I'm in no way interested in them. Should I just give in and become a bar fly? Be the chick that anyone can have for a the price of a beer? I would hope not, at least I hope I would hold out for something imported.

I've got to get back on antidepressants or I'm never going to get out of this rut. I hate feeling this way, but I have no energy to make the phone calls or the appointments I have to make to get better.

I wanted to say more here, but I've run out of steam.

I'm out of love again.

Who wants to be my snuggler?

Bored...

I am bored. I am restless. I am PMSing. I am worn out.

I've got so much work ahead of me just to survive.

Can someone carry me?