Monday, September 29, 2003
Adios, September...
I know September doesn't end until Tuesday, but I'm ready to say farewell to it. It's just been a strange, emotional roller-coaster kind of month. I wasn't as busy socially as I was in August, but in some ways it's been far more wearying.
That's it. I'm not tired. I'm not fatigued. I'm just weary.
And there's nothing to perk up a weary girl near the end of an emotionally weird month like coming home from a seventh straight day of work (with another six to come) and time spent with a friend who, while a good friend, can sometimes instill in said weary girl the desire to smack the hell out of him, like walking into the kitchen at 11pm and finding the cats' dishes overrun with ants. Again. For the third time this month.
And, after spraying said ants with non-toxic cleaner (well, non-toxic to the cats - toxic enough for the ants), when dumping the ant-infested bowls of food down the kitchen garbage disposal, the discovery that the disposal doesn't fucking work is enough to make a weary girl weep for joy. Or anger. Or frustration. Or something.
And annoying voicemail messages from the landlord certainly places the aforementioned weary girl in a so much better frame of mind than when she started the weekend, as does the realization that the next day, 9/29, marks a year since she helped in the separation of her parents.
Is it October yet? October has got to be better, right?
***********************************************
I really wanted to write something fun and amusing tonight, something to bring up the mood from my last post. But it's not there. I'm looking, but, in the words of Wil Wheaton, I just can't find the funny. It seemed to disappear as fast as it came. And I've been lookin', I've been lookin', I've been lookin'. I've been up. I've been down. I've been tryin' to get the feelin'. I've been all around. I've been...
...channeling Barry Manilow. Oh heavens to Murgatroid, even.
***********************************************
Wait, I found some funny! Granted, it's not my funny. As perviously mentioned, my funny seems to be taking a siesta. But stolen funny is better than none at all, right? Especially if it's Qantas funny, by way of Chuck (from whom, BTW, I lifted the newest link to the right, 525 Reasons to Dump Bush - though I'm sure that 525 is a conservative [Ha!] number).
Thanks, Qantas and Chuck!
That's it. I'm not tired. I'm not fatigued. I'm just weary.
And there's nothing to perk up a weary girl near the end of an emotionally weird month like coming home from a seventh straight day of work (with another six to come) and time spent with a friend who, while a good friend, can sometimes instill in said weary girl the desire to smack the hell out of him, like walking into the kitchen at 11pm and finding the cats' dishes overrun with ants. Again. For the third time this month.
And, after spraying said ants with non-toxic cleaner (well, non-toxic to the cats - toxic enough for the ants), when dumping the ant-infested bowls of food down the kitchen garbage disposal, the discovery that the disposal doesn't fucking work is enough to make a weary girl weep for joy. Or anger. Or frustration. Or something.
And annoying voicemail messages from the landlord certainly places the aforementioned weary girl in a so much better frame of mind than when she started the weekend, as does the realization that the next day, 9/29, marks a year since she helped in the separation of her parents.
Is it October yet? October has got to be better, right?
I really wanted to write something fun and amusing tonight, something to bring up the mood from my last post. But it's not there. I'm looking, but, in the words of Wil Wheaton, I just can't find the funny. It seemed to disappear as fast as it came. And I've been lookin', I've been lookin', I've been lookin'. I've been up. I've been down. I've been tryin' to get the feelin'. I've been all around. I've been...
...channeling Barry Manilow. Oh heavens to Murgatroid, even.
Wait, I found some funny! Granted, it's not my funny. As perviously mentioned, my funny seems to be taking a siesta. But stolen funny is better than none at all, right? Especially if it's Qantas funny, by way of Chuck (from whom, BTW, I lifted the newest link to the right, 525 Reasons to Dump Bush - though I'm sure that 525 is a conservative [Ha!] number).
Thanks, Qantas and Chuck!
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