So much to say, so little coherency to say it with.

I haven’t been sleeping well, and it’s only thanks to copious amounts of caffeine and being driven around that I’m not dropping over from sheer exhaustion. Thanks doof for the Triple Grande Mocha, and Panty Mistress for the lifts the past couple of days – you may be a very… unpredictable.. driver, but you’re safe, and you always get me home in one piece, and that’s what counts.

Also, thanks Nut for delivering my ridiculous order of a foot-long cheese steak sammich today. I was planning to skip dinner because I was so stuffed after that, and the coffee, and the granola bars I’ve got crammed in my drawer at work… and then I found out my mom had made pasta. And bruschettas. Toasted to per-fec-tion. Just about crispy on the outside, soft and untouched and warm on the inside. Amazing.

Now I’m curled up in my pink polka dotted pajamas, getting my YouTube fix (which I will never again attempt to do at work, after the fiasco of this morning) waiting for my hair to dry so I can hopefully drift off into a long long nap. I always feel uncomfortable if my hair is still wet when I go to bed, but I couldn’t resist a long hot shower with papaya shampoo, plum body wash, topped off with red pepper body lotion.. I think Peewee’s fruit-obsession is rubbing off on me.

I figured I’d try to write up a bunch of things while waiting. I spend my days with thoughts running through my head that would make brilliant conversation (probably why I’m constantly traipsing from my own desk to peewee’s at work, even though we sit at opposite ends of the department) but I never seem to remember them long enough to blog about, so you end up with inane renditions of what my day was like.

Last night, I figured out why I hate being in pictures so much. But, following that reasoning, I shouldn’t have any desire to TAKE pictures either, and seeing as how nut, peewee pie, mix and Mizz Miller have all banned me from bringing my camera out on party nights because I spend all my time snapping instead of partying, that doesn’t really make much sense. So maybe that’s not it after all.

I started talking about work, but then I deleted all of it, because I don’t feel like whining. And really, I kind of like this job. I get paid to read and eat granola bars. And take really long toilet breaks. And skip over to Petunia’s desk for bitchfests. It could be so much worse.

Sometimes when I get bored, I start window-internet-shopping. Internet-window-shopping? Whatever you call it, that’s what I do. It started with looking up snowboarding attire, because I was curious whether it would be cheaper than renting at a resort. Which eventually led to looking at things like ear warmers, and neck gaiters.. and this, these, this, this, and these. If you can’t tell, I’m looking forward to the winter trip.

I’m looking forward to a lot of things, really. Friday’s Movie Night, post-work/pre-school parties, planning my schedule for next semester (I can’t help it. I love planning things like that. OCD kicks in from time to time, as much as I try not to let it), even school itself in some twisted way, because I know there’ll be more lunches with the fruit loopz, more late night “study” sessions, more skipping class and hitting the beach, and that I’ll treasure them a wee bit more, since it’s my last year of schooling.

In the short term though, I’m looking forward to hitting the ‘publish’ button and going to bed, because as disjointed as I know this entry sounds, and as little sense as it makes, I’m much too tired to feel too poorly about it. I don’t generally like letting a piece of writing go when I know it’s seriously flawed, but this is a damned blog, not a novel in progress. I come here to be “cryptic” and emo when I have relationship woes, to tell my buddies I love them (which I do, btw, very much), to whine about familia bs.. Not to showcase my potential. I know that’s there, and occasionally I start jonesing to do something about it, to make this space a little bit more meaningful, have a little bit more soul, portray a little depth..

but when it comes down to it – I’ve never let myself take the things that really matter too seriously. Chronic distrust and fear, I suppose. Whatever the case, I’m here to blather, and the blathering is here to stay. And seeing as how I get nagged at to update, I can only assume the blathering is loved and adored as much as you guys are. So yay us!

Cripes. I make so little sense when my brain goes to sleep, even if my body’s still wide awake. I don’t understand why the two can’t just synchronise their damn sleep cycles, instead of taking turns keeping watch on my psyche. I can be left alone for a couple of hours a day, you know.

‘Cos if you’re not really here, I don’t wanna be either, I wanna be next to you, Black & Gold, Black & Gold, Black & Gold.