Of post-shower plum fumes.

Too many people don’t get enough sleep, don’t eat right, take on more than they can handle, don’t learn to let go – I bet a good 60% of the population suffers from some sort of disorder, psychological, eating, stress related, or otherwise. And most of them keep quiet and hide it, don’t even admit it to themselves, because they don’t want to be accused of attention seeking behaviour, don’t want the attention, are too scared to conceive a life of being anything other than ‘normal’, or are taught that everyone is going through the same shit, and if it’s happening to everyone, then it IS the norm, so how could anything be wrong?

I’m glad I’m not writing this in MS Word. Longest sentence EVER. I hate how it highlights that shit as grammatical errors. Then again I do use Office 97, so they’ve probably worked out that little quirk by now.

Recap: My list of things to do this weekend
1) organise my closet – The pile of clothes on the floor has been eliminated, but the actual clothes are still all over the place. I usually have all my pants in one part, my skirts in another, my skanky clothes in one, and my nunnery worthy ones in another… but I figure it’s good to leave a little bit of excitement in my otherwise mundane life. Plus I got lazy.

2) Hunt for the I Love Lucy DVDs – I whined to my father. Who whined back. Eventually between the two of us we scrounged up one disc, with 4 episodes on it. Friday night, pizza, beer, possibly microwaved

3) Return my library books – done, with the assistance of the Mixster. Who carried all ten of them in one hand. Thank you, you strong manly man you. Grunt grunt flex.

4) Convince my father to buy me a wii – well, technically the weekend isn’t over yet, so I’ll keep working on it. I’m trying to work a puppy into the deal, but so far, it’s no go.

I also managed to go on a little star gazing tour with the TP gang. Henderson waves is(are?) a really nice place to visit when your soul needs a little pacifying. Also, if you have dumpster diving dreams, I suggest you talk to Farah. She found a pouch full of credit cards, cash, and all sorts of other goodies in a bin just off the bridge. Amazingly the name on the cards was hers. Oh such a lucky girl, that one.

Snigger snort.

Today I slammed my elbow into the shower screen, danced around my room to Rihanna (which really should be a clinically prescribed treatment for the blues), gave up trying to figure out why my foot hurts, and vegged the hell out of my couch. Fashion Police, CSI Miami, Surprise by Design, random cooking shows, the History channel, Animal Planet… and after this post I plan to head right back and carry on. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I’ve rested the bug right out of my system, but I think it’s safe to say that I’m ready to hang out with Swine on Wednesday night for drinkies and foodies. Yes, she’s back in town. God help us all.

Disturbiaaaaa.

(p.s. I STILL haven’t watched episode 3 of Gossip Girl. I really need to either get on that, or return Petunia her DVDs.)