Angela Louise

Tonight, I ate half a pineapple all by myself.

I was depressed.

It's cool though, I feel better.  Thanks for asking.

For some reason, I am very upset... and I don't know why.  Josh asleep, and after calling him like... 8 times in a row, he won't wake up.

I broke the strap on one of my favorite shirts.

I really need new work pants, but I can't find any to fit.

Why do I need them?

I'm so fat, that by walking so much at work I rubbed two holes into the thigh of both legs.

My back is killing me.

I just don't know. I want this day to be over, but I can't sleep.

Oh, and despite the hype over Valentine's Day, I still really want my flowers.  It pisses me off so much that Josh bought some for me, whatever they may be, and they never came here.  I just... ugh.  Nobody's ever gotten me flowers, and the one time they do... the delivery guys fucks it up.  I hate FTD.

I am the Walrus.

Bill:  $86.42
Tip:  $2.00

Thanks, ya' dumb bitch.

I didn't come home last night.

After all the crap my parents have put me through the past week, I'm already stressed enough.  After going out with Mariah and Jesse then playing Heroscape at their house until 11:30, Josh and I headed back to my house with time to spare, and maybe watch some Top Chef Re-Runs.

I walk in the door, kind of quiet because mom is probably asleep. Josh is quiet, too.

I am greeted by my cousin, who is laying on the couch.  She scares the bohonkus out of me by making the loudest shush noise ever, and says "you're mother's asleep!  Be quieter!"

I nearly jump out of my skin at this and tell her that yes, I know, I am being quiet, and "Fuck, don't scare me like that."

So she snaps back at me, rude as ever with "Well, mayb e if you paid more attention to your family and cared more, you'd know I was coming over."

I nearly burst into tears, because she has no idea what I've gone through (Granted, nobody else does either, but it's a lot) and I was already kind of upset anyway... and for her to sit there and make assumptions about me?  I don't think so.  So I grabbed my purse and pushed Josh out the back door and told him I had to leave.

So we got in his car, and I suggest we just go back to his house.  We did.  And I came home this afternoon before I had to go to work.

Still haven't talked to mom, but I don't know if she's too pissed since I had a reason and I told her that this morning when she called me.  But whatever, I don't care.

Driving home from work today, I watched one man pull a gun on another at the gas station a half a mile from my house.

How did you find out the secret behind Santa Claus?
Submitted by Carinish.

Mom told me.

I've been semi-depressed lately and quite edgy.  I've had lots of comments just on the edge of my tongue, but if they slipped out.. well, I wouldn't have any friends left.

I accept Cosmo Kramer's apology.

I cut my hand while slicing chicken for the fajitas tonight.

At first, I just stared. Maybe I wasn't sure what had happened?  I had the knife in my right hand, and my left was bleeding more than it should.  A one inch cut, maybe, on my palm.  It didn't hurt like it should have.

Reality never really set in.  After roughly a minute of watching the blood drip down my hand and onto the counter top, I wrapped it up, finally feeling the sting.  A band-aid and three iburofen, I was back to making dinner.

It's almost as if this small cut is a metaphor for every tragedy to ever attatch itsself to my pathetic existence.  Whatever it is that happens, whether it be my parents getting divorce, everyone dying, a tragic car accident- I don't realize it.  It doesn't make sense at the time.  Things like this don't happen to me.  I'm in not in shock, just... disbelief.

After a prolonged period, I begin to pick up the pieces.  Whatever it is has made a mess, and I spend more time cleaning up than I could have if I had only reacted sooner.  But... reacting means I have to admit that yes, this has happened.  Being suspended in disbelief doesn't make it real.  Putting on that band aid does.  It makes more real than it ever was.

And then at times like these, after the inciedent has happened, and I've moved on... that's when the pain sets in.  Sitting here, typing away, the cut hurts like hell.  It's a dull ache that I wish would dissipate.  Then again, isn't that how it all ends?  The pain doesn't register until later... but when it does, it just won't go away.