Arf.

Yep, I wasn't kidding. August is crap so far. Work is not good (but could be worse), money is not good (but could be worse), and home isn't exactly terrific at the moment (Dan's now working two jobs, the time-suckage is enormous, and balancing me with his family is tough, to say the least). I just want to be 50 lbs lighter, like I'm sposed to be, and have one day with enough time and bucks so I could go to the mall and look for an outfit and go to the used bookstore-without getting lost-and misbehave a little bit there, and maybe go to a girly movie in the afternoon when no-one's there, and not feel guilty after about any of it. That's all I want. To not be tired and sad and sick for no reason, and broke on top of that, and making everybody dislike me cuz I'm a horrible Debbie Downer. Then again, at least 3/4 of the people at my job are in the same position, so at least I have company, right? And a job to commiserate over in the first place. Lucky me! (No, really, I am, and I know it. Being "broke-but-hey-did-you-see-the-fancy-cell-I-got-for-free-with-my-contract-renewal?" ain't ezactly Darfur). Here, let's all have an AWESOME happy song:

Ernie's having another party!

It's 3 am, and I'm wiiiiide awake. I was headachy and nauseous and drained all day again, and my body pulled the plug on me at about 8, so I guess that's actually a pretty decent chunk of sleep. 'Sokay, I've got a lovely book (one of those "best-evers" that I try not to open too often), and a warm blanket- and I just checked my weight and discovered it's definitely slipped down to the next decade (I thought my shorts felt slidey!), which is pleasing/scary. Got no plans for the holiday today except chilling at the pool. Should be nice, if I'm not asleep again by lunchtime.

(Later)
"Margaret... could not concentrate on details... all demand some comment or response. It is impossible to see modern life steadily and see it whole, and she had chosen to see it whole. Mr. Wilcox saw steadily. He never bothered over the mysterious or the private.... Yet she liked being with him. He was not a rebuke, but a stimulus, and banished morbidity."

"He desired comradeship and affection, but he feared them, and she, who had taught herself only to desire, and could have clothed the struggle with beauty, held back, and hesitated with him."

What a great book.

Chuck Norris doesn't go hunting. He goes killing.

Yay for Swedish pop and insomnia! Woke up, WIDE-ass awake, forty minutes ago, with "Young Folks" blaring in my head. At least that's a song that makes me smile, unlike last time when it was "Night of the Living Baseheads" and my dreams had involved the Crips and werewolves and a demon baby.

It's not so much that I mind being alone in the house at night as I dislike waking up and realizing that either a.) I'm alone, or b.) I slept through the front door opening, closing, and locking, with the attendant tiptoeing around, which kinda reminds me of that Sesame Street where Bert is trying to sleep and Ernie's sheep-counting somehow devolves into this huge house party with sheep and a band and mimes and firetrucks and Lord knows what else. Dang, which song was it in that sketch?

One weird thing about living in 'the big city' is animal behavior. The big construction lights over on the bridge make the birds FREAK OUT tweetering from midnight 'til three, like some kind of damn X-and-Dust-Brothers-fueled nest party and then they fall asleep and I usually don't hear 'em again 'til like 10, and I get all weirded out in the back of my head about zombies and "Silent Spring" and stuff like that. I mean, it's coming up on dawn now- those little buggers should be singing their heads off, but instead they're hiding out, sleeping off the rave.

I hope it's sunny today. I wanna go do my Benjamin Braddock impersonation. Well, except for the Mrs. Robinson part- somehow I don't think it's gonna be that kind of day. Then again, if anyone feels like volunteering.....