A random last year entry

max 95 characters
Current mood: awake
Category: Automotive

That older song My Immortal by Evanescence.....never thought about it much but really listened to it tonight. It's playing on my page. Good song.

And well, the dog ate my kid's homework. Really, he did. I thought that was just a saying. And even if it was, my dog turned it into reality. No kidding. Now what?

I need a new default pic. I feel like I'm staring at myself. Weird.

No, I'm not drinking. But I am thirsty.

Tomorrow is operation organize. I'll be rewarding my efforts with something sassy to wear. And I'm going to save it for something special. No, I don't know what that something special is, but when it happens, I'll have just the outfit.

My eyes hurt, but I'm afraid to fall asleep. I don't like my dreams lately. I also hate those first moments of waking up, realizing why I'm sad and why my life is so hard right now. At present, I exist between the proverbial rock and a hard palce. I'm squished so tight that I even stress out in my sleep....that is, when I do sleep.

I miss hugs.

I have been considering a side career in public speaking. I want to speak to 20-somethings about marriage. I want to be the poster child for WAIT YOU STUPID IDIOTS WHAT'S THE FRIGGIN RUSH?! But I won't use my default pic on the poster. I'll let Zach take a new one once I lose five pounds, and then I'll use that one. OK Zach?

Tonight I realized that my house is a potty training disaster, between my youngest daughter and the puppy. I am getting tired of it. Maybe it would help if I took her outside and put him on the potty. It's worth a shot, right?

Is it wrong to just want to stay in your pjs and sleep for a week, never even getting out of bed except for necessary restroom breaks? I hope not, because that's what I want to do. Except then of course, I'd have to dream and I'm not a fan of that these days. Can I be one of those mopey, can't go on type of people just for a week? I promise I'll shape up, but just once......

I keep having this vision of my grave site in some random big-city cemetery where all of these stranger dead people I never knew in real life are all around me with their better skeletal halves and I, of course, got the "single plot." All the "doubles" are around me, happy they are reunited for eternity. And even though I might be happy alone in the afterlife as I (pretended to be) was in real life, there I am, still single.... even in Heaven. I picture myself bumping into Bill and his wife.... "Yeah, sorry about that wacky til death do us part thing. Ooops. Party foul." And then I make a left and there's Joe and his fifth wife (she got to keep her boob job in Heaven? Who knew?), floating along..... "Oh hey! Yes, isn't it lovely here? Yeah, I know I still feel bad about that whole for better or for worse stuff.....like we really meant it, right? They really should take that part out of the vows. It's so last century. Sorry about that, but I have to run and play bridge with all of the other old hags who died alone and single because they spent their time on earth dating, marrying, and then subsequently divorcing jerks like you. Have a nice eternity. No need to keep in touch."

This mental picture of that lone little tomb stone depresses me. Is it wrong to just get married right before you die in order to get the whole double burial plot deal? Could I just buy one and then keep the plot beside me empty, much like my bed was during my life on earth? I mean, who will know? And then I could make up whatever I wanted for his gravestone about how great my fake husband was and then it would be the coolest tomb stone on the whole row.

I have another fear of growing old alone, living in a tiny apartment or trailer with no heat or AC because I can't afford it, yet I have all of these stray cats....or maybe parakeets.....some random pets to talk to in order to break the silence. I picture my daughters off on their own, checking in by phone here and there, as they vacation with their kids with their wealthy father, step-mother, and their offspring. I'll be that weird little old lady who claims she used to be a writer (yeah right) and keeps a 1980s poster of some freak named Jon Bon Jovi on her bathroom wall. Eventually, the magazines from  my subscription to Hit Parader will pile up high enough for someone to check in on me, and I'll have expired while digging around in the fridge for an old can of Sprite to soothe my upset stomach. Alone. And then of course, the cats and parakeets are happy to be spared anymore annoying hair band music coming from my vintage CD player, circa 1992.

I need to go to the grocery store. But more importantly, when I buy stuff this time, I actually need to eat it. I can't tell you how much food I buy that just goes to waste. I either don't eat at all, or I eat take out and just keep throwing out the rest. Cooking and preparing meals is depressing. But those kids the hospital gave me need to eat, so I guess I should be purchasing and serving something of nutritional value. I checked and Halloween candy, despite the protein-packed peanut butter filling, doesn't really make the cut. Alas.

Chris, my trainer, won't call me back. Are you mad at me? Call me so that I can hand over my next paycheck to you and then gripe at you for an hour a week for forcing me to inflict severe pain on myself while you yell at me for eating leftover Halloween candy I keep stealing from my kids' stash.

I thought it was funny to use max 95 characters as my title. At least I think so now. I might not later. I change my mind every 10 minutes about everything else lately, so I wouldn't be surprised if I read it tomorrow and realize how terribly uncreative I am. And how about that Automotive category....I'm such the jokester.

Well, I think this worked. I am finally sleepy enough to hopefully go straight to sleep without over-thinking things. Again.

Maybe I should work on my daughter's scrapbook. Or not. I think I'll work on a to do list so I feel productive and ready to go tomorrow. Or not.

But yeah, as I was saying, that Evanescence song is really good when you really listen to the lyrics.