moya

I almost didn't wake up there. Oh, and then there would be no update for today! Such a lazy bum, I am. I went into work again today, and when I got home and did all my things that needed to be done, I couldn't move without pain. My wrists are thinking it's funny to lock up and even my fingers are stiff. My back is killing me, my feet are too sore to stand on and my leg muscles feel terrible. I'm a cripple. Anyway, I went to bed; here I am two and a half hours later, awake, hurting, and cranky. You just can't tell.

I have so much work to do for tomorrow, and I don't know how it's going to get done. I didn't plan on work exhausting me, because it rarely does, and these are only six hour days . I guess I've had enough.

What else.. I ate five pieces of pizza earlier. And two donuts for breakfast. No wonder today wasn't so well. Where has all the fun gone? Feeling like an old granny isn't supposed to happen for another twenty years, atleast. Why do the bottoms of my feet itch?! And why are my hands so dry? My palms could have cracked and bled, and they still feel like they could right now, why is the moisturizer not working? Yucky hands. Don't hurt, please.

Apparently, someone (whom I never would have guessed to even give a thought about me these days) made me a cd with Chimaira and Dashboard on it.. Not only is that quite the combination, but it also means he's going to have to come say hi sometime so he can give it to me with an eight foot pole so I don't rip his balls off. Hello, distressful anger. I figure if the reason, and only reason, he comes to this town is to see me (it is kind of out of the way), then I'll be fine and things are slowly going back to okay (I'd hope, we'll see); otherwise..gah. There is no otherwise yet, but I'll come up with something. And it's going to be mean. Why? Because . I should be the only one from this town worth driving here to see, damnit! I need to stop worrying. About this particular individual, anyway, it all ends up unnoticed and being for nothing. It wears me out. Damn my stubbornness and persistence. Damn it to hell.

My boob itches, along with all my other skin. Someone should scratch my back for me for about a half hour. I'd go insane within the first ten minutes . But it itches damnit. The only backscratcher I have is my hair brush. Before you know it, I'll be using my toothbrush to massage my feet or something awkward like that. But that would be tickle torture. I'd be damning myself to hell for thinking that clever one up.

Dating status: Not looking, or on the market. I..am still not going to fill that out. If you're not male, and not female, then I'm looking for YOU!

Other than looking for human hybrids, itching, my tendency to worry myself for nothing, I'm getting a new cd, and eating pizza, I'm sure nothing else of major importance happened during my day . I suppose it's time to stop being lazy, socialize (online of course, I'm good at it), and then be in bed by 11. Sorry, no pictures from my lazy ass today, either.