Thank heavens this month is over. My normal lucky-month of October commences in an hour and a half.

Though how lucky and happy will it be this year? Will I drown in my grief of the Scotland-trip-that-could-have-been? Will all the things I have planned (concerts, social activities, four-day-weekend courtesy of PTO) distract me from the emptiness inside? Or will I find a new happiness to fill my life, even temporarily?

If this September has taught me nothing else, it's taught me that you can't plan for bad things to happen; generally, they end up being something you didn't expect at all.

Thank you very much for the learning experience, September. I appreciate it. Now go the fuck away before I get any more crazy. I think you've driven me to the edge of lunacy.

Sweetness, please just write to me. I don't know what to say that will make you want to, and I know you don't owe me anything, but I miss you in my life. I needed someone like you this month to make me laugh even when things were at their lowest and saddest, and there's no one else I know that can do that. Maybe I'll meet that other person sometime soon; maybe there is no other person. I never thought I would regret the mistakes I make in life -- I just figured I would learn from them and move on -- but this mistake is something I think I'll always regret, even though I've already taken the lesson from it I was supposed to learn. At least, I think I have.

God, what a fucking depressing month. Again, thank heavens it's over.

September 26, 2005

September sucks. Is it October yet? Fuck.

September 17, 2005

New Model Army is awesome. Of course, that could just be the booze talking. Damn, how I love a night that involves three vodka-Redbulls.

Boozy love, that's all.

I'm trying not to be jealous of John's girlfriend. Really, I am. She is just like me, except older and with a kid. I think I could like her very much if she were not dating a guy that I could see myself with. Wait ... I am seeing myself with him. Except that she's somebody else and older and has a kid.

Oh, crap. Crap crap crap.

And oh, well. I still miss my sweetness. I think I am just messed up in the head and need to forget everything for a while. Time for sleep. That will help everything, and plus it will keep me from blogging anymore while under the influence of alcohol. Bargh.

September 14, 2005

It seems stress is good for two things: the ability to sleep-like-the-dead (but with bizarre dreams), and weight loss.

For the past week I've been unable to wake up on schedule on my own. It has been a phone call from a friend that has gotten me to emerge from the depths that my dreams have taken me every day. Monday was John asking if I wanted to do dinner and go pick up our tickets for New Model Army. Last night was Nick, at 9:30 p.m., asking if I was up yet, because my away message on AIM still said I was sleeping. Bless my ex, he is a savior. I was 10 minutes late for work, instead of 2 hours or whatever I would have taken to sleep longer. Today my friend Emily wakeup called me, and I should be calling her back, since she was supposed to re-call me half an hour ago. Oops.

Not sure why I'm sleeping so much, or so deeply. Must be the stress. I guess I shouldn't complain or anything.

As for the weight-loss, I'm down to 143 again, seemingly without effort. Of course, that could mostly be due to the fact that I haven't been swimming for over two weeks now and therefore have lost muscle mass instead of fat or a pants size, or maybe to the fact that I sleep too late to make myself a hearty breakfast like I've been used to. Hell, in my fridge all I have left are the fixings for quesadillas (with shredded mozzarella or a slice of American cheese, now, since I've just finished the last of the shredded cheddar) with salsa and ... hot dogs. Oh, and Diet Coke, too, of course. Not exactly delectable. Throw in Lean Cuisine microwave meals for dinner, and you have a lo-cal way of eating. I should sell it ... the "Your Mom Had a Stroke" diet plan. Keen!

And now, even though my soft bed beckons, it is 9 p.m. and I need to head out for work. Blargh! Blargh, I say! Hopefully it's a light night. *knocks on wood*

September 5, 2005

I am getting a little tired of people who don't take care of themselves.

I am getting very tired of my parents getting wake up calls about their health by means of a visit to the hospital. I'm tired of sitting in hospitals with all my neurotic crazy family hovering around being nuisances. I'm tired of having to worry about parents who are only in their 50s and should be perfectly all right, because longevity is a given in our family, more or less, if they just freaking took care of themselves. Mom, when you get home, we are going to be all over you with the applesauce. Cinnamon flavored. And you're going to eat it.

At least she'll be all right, with a little physical therapy.