Happy Halloween!

This week has sucked me dry--dry to the bones of my energy reserves. I came into work this morning dressed all in black and donning bunny ears. The kids loved it. I let our administrative assistant play with my Minnie Mouse ears.

But, despite my enthusiasm for the holiday, it was no big secret, as the activities started to wind down, that I was slipping. Fast. I'm pretty sure I heard Sylvia mumble, "Wake up, bunny ears! There's work to do around here." Or perhaps it was the strange imaginings of a mad mind diluted with too much sugar. I made a home visit this evening and, after getting not even half way through our ESL lesson, the mother asked if I could come back next week, as she was very tired and not ready to concentrate on her English lesson. After she woke me up, I concluded that yes, maybe it was time for me to go home, after all.

I think I've found the road to nowhere, and I'm trying to escape....

Now no one is home and it's pretty damn lonely, as usual. Happy Halloween.

Dormir, quizás soñar....

Tomorrow's Halloween. Rent's due on Friday. Gotta get all-weather tires. Gotta get tickets to "Mamma Mía." Gotta clean my room. Gotta call my families to make more appointments. The gotta-gotta-gotta train's running out of steam. I was thinking, maybe I could make life easier by calling Uncle Tony and having him place a few hits. I make mistakes, but I follow the book so much that I begin to wonder if that's what gets me into trouble.

I just want to sleep. On Friday night, I will sleep so long and so soundly that my roommates will wonder if I am dead. I will not be, of course. But they will wonder.

The Six Degrees Of Kevin Bacon

I sooooo don't want to go to work this morning. Or tomorrow morning. Or the day after that. I get to go in late today because I have a home visit tonight. But I get all this crap thrown at me that isn't even my job all the freaking time. And then my other supervisors, who are housed almost an hour away, are all like, why are you slacking? Well, it hasn't gotten to that point yet. But I'm waiting for it to. There's another woman who's been at the center for nearly 12 years and she's being relocated to Rochester, because she "pays too much attention to the center, and not enough to her real job." Sounds familiar. I could go on, but I don't like to spill too many specifics on the Internet. Plus I'm apathetic to a degree.

Oh! Renée and Jenna got me a cool game. It's called Thinkblot. They were all excited when they came home from shopping and were like, "We have a surprise for you." And Renée was all, "Remember a commercial you saw on TV a couple of weeks ago, and you were like, 'I want that'?" And I said something along the lines of, "Uh...no?" I really don't remember. The game looks vaguely familiar, and it is kinda cool, but I really just...don't remember.


There's a lot that I don't remember, lately. But the game's pretty damn cool.

Oh, The Thinks You Can Think!

Do me a favor and look to the side column there. Yep, right there, on the left. There you go. Now ponder the good Doctor Suess' words of wisdom. One not included on the side? "Should we tell her about it? Now, what SHOULD we do? Well....What would YOU do if your mother asked YOU?"

Too many implications to count.

I was thinking about Dr. Suess just today. I was wondering and pondering if he was gay. Did he like girls? Did he like boys? Or did he just like to play with his toys?

*turn the page*

He was a genius; surely, it's true. But perhaps--oh, perhaps!--he just had no clue.

My birthday just went by. Libra. The scales.

When I first got to college, I was 40 pounds lighter. Granted, I wasn't entirely healthy, butt I looked damn good, in retrospect. But it is impossible to see that while the moment's still there. I am not healthy now, either, but I'm at the other end of the spectrum. I'm not obese or anything, but I could benefit from a weekly routine. I'm trying to get myself motivated. Right now, I'd be happy even just two sizes smaller, as long as I were toned. I really want to get myself into shape. I don't feel healthy at all. In the meantime, this site rocks.

Tell me

Have you ever dreamed about having sex with someone you weren't attracted to? No one repulsive--just someone you never thought about "in that way." Just wondering.

Oops....

In reference to my October 2 entry, allow me to berate myself for even talking about taking a creative writing class at the community college. Hello: Why would a two-year college bother to offer creative writing courses, or even an English major, for that matter? Thanks, Renée, for pointing this out to me.

Silly girl....

Sunday, Sunday....

It's Sunday morning and I've done two loads of laundry. And that's about all I've accomplished. I'm annoyed because AIM keeps telling me that I haven't waited enough time since I last logged in. I last logged in two nights ago. Grumble. Today we're going to see "Sweet Home Alabama." I'll let you know how it is.

My allergies could kill a very small horse right now.

Inside: Empty, Weighted

So I said that I'd write something about 9-1-1, reflections for a year later.

Instead, I've been taking online tests and posting the results.

The truth is, though, I just can't write about it. I don't have the emotional energy. I don't feel like writing any creative non-fiction. No motivaton. No feeling. Numb. Or, at least, I try to keep numb, because even the smallest thought about it sends my throat into clutch reflex, and it's all I can do to keep the tears from spilling over. It's okay for me to write about it at this very moment, because I am making general sweeps around and around, pulling the shade down on the specifics.

Fade to black.

Right now, I am wishing that I could rewind time about six weeks. It is six weeks ago in a parallel reality. I am approaching the registrar's office at the community college as a non-matriculated student, signing up for a creative writing course. Fiction. You see, it is difficult for me to begin the process on my own. I feed off of the energy of others. Then I hibernate as I polish my craft. And, if I am lucky, I emerge with something very special.

Alas, now is clearly not the time for that. Good night.

Personality Disorders. Enough Said.

So I just took this test that's supposed to tell me which personality disorders I may have. Here are the lovely results.

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	Moderate
Schizoid:	Low
Schizotypal:	High
Antisocial:	Low
Borderline:	Very High
Histrionic:	Moderate
Narcissistic:	Low
Avoidant:	Moderate
Dependent:	Very High
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Moderate
-- Click Here To Take The Test --