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28 Nov 2002
(no subject)
28 Nov 2002 10:50 amwhile i was away at school, *all* of our sesame street tapes have reappeared, *including* my beloved don't eat the pictures!
this, my friends, is the source of the "for the 3,488,65second time...:" quote. and all silly numbers beginning with 3,000,000 that i ever use. it's the demon! the SESAME STREET DEMON WITH A TOWEL ON HIS HEAD! er, who says that. I MUST WATCH IT VERY SOON, I THINK!
also, my little sister's keyboard plays "livin' la vida loca," by which fact she is inordinately pleased. >.> no, really. i'm happy for her. yes. i am.
this, my friends, is the source of the "for the 3,488,65second time...:" quote. and all silly numbers beginning with 3,000,000 that i ever use. it's the demon! the SESAME STREET DEMON WITH A TOWEL ON HIS HEAD! er, who says that. I MUST WATCH IT VERY SOON, I THINK!
also, my little sister's keyboard plays "livin' la vida loca," by which fact she is inordinately pleased. >.> no, really. i'm happy for her. yes. i am.
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i'm suppressing a slight urge to type song lyrics here instead of actual content. or in addition to. perhaps you'll be spared, though. all that's in my head is 'dirrty,' anyway.
today's thanksgiving and i've hardly eaten. every encounter of mine with food lately seems to turn out for the worse. the apple pie and chicken have been the most staggering failures, i believe, while the raisin bran at breakfast this morning seemed mostly okay. all i ate at thanksgiving dinner was bread and butter--no, i'm not lying--and *that* didn't sit too well either. okay, blah blah, yeah. but i'm worried. dear meds, go fuck yourselves, love, claire and cim. and of course, when he upped the dose of the antidepressant the shrink said if such and so a severe side-effect should happen to show up, to stop immediately and call him and i can't remember what it was. well, i know for certain it wasn't 'you can't decide whether to eat a horse or throw up,' but then again, what if it was anxiety--which is equally incongruous, as the meds are *supposed* to treat anxiety, and i remember thinking 'weird.' and i *am* getting anxious, and i know that *that* can fuck up my stomach (which clearly something has), but then again, i'm also going down on the dose of anxiety meds, and i've skipped several beyond that, lately.
ow.
ow.
i was going to ramble on, but i don't know about this extended, well, ramblyness. summary: shit. >.< that includes a headache, btw. why, yes, i am going to bed.
when i took a shower tonight, the knob that moves the water flow from the tub faucet to the shower head came off in my hand. isn't it lovely the way little things like that stick in your memory as if they mattered, and if your life were a book the plot would hinge on them--but it's not? literature is so much neater than life.
today's thanksgiving and i've hardly eaten. every encounter of mine with food lately seems to turn out for the worse. the apple pie and chicken have been the most staggering failures, i believe, while the raisin bran at breakfast this morning seemed mostly okay. all i ate at thanksgiving dinner was bread and butter--no, i'm not lying--and *that* didn't sit too well either. okay, blah blah, yeah. but i'm worried. dear meds, go fuck yourselves, love, claire and cim. and of course, when he upped the dose of the antidepressant the shrink said if such and so a severe side-effect should happen to show up, to stop immediately and call him and i can't remember what it was. well, i know for certain it wasn't 'you can't decide whether to eat a horse or throw up,' but then again, what if it was anxiety--which is equally incongruous, as the meds are *supposed* to treat anxiety, and i remember thinking 'weird.' and i *am* getting anxious, and i know that *that* can fuck up my stomach (which clearly something has), but then again, i'm also going down on the dose of anxiety meds, and i've skipped several beyond that, lately.
ow.
ow.
i was going to ramble on, but i don't know about this extended, well, ramblyness. summary: shit. >.< that includes a headache, btw. why, yes, i am going to bed.
when i took a shower tonight, the knob that moves the water flow from the tub faucet to the shower head came off in my hand. isn't it lovely the way little things like that stick in your memory as if they mattered, and if your life were a book the plot would hinge on them--but it's not? literature is so much neater than life.