people down here think i'm crazy

That feeling when you wake, and it's noon, and you've slept 'til noon, and you earned it. Hours later there's a slow, luxurious kind of languor still living just beneath the skin, cool and slick.

I appear to be physically incapable of calling the driving school; it's the only logical explanation. Well, no, but the truth requires hashing and rehashing things I don't want to think about anymore, things I'm done fighting about.

I've officially stopped expecting my mother to be happy in the mornings. Like. Just. She kind of greets every day with a squint and, "You're the sun. You're round. You're orange. So whaddaya want, a freakin' medal?"

I hate it when the windows in the living room are open. Minimum, I'm investing in some sheers if/when they ever get their travel shit together.

I miss the gym. Not the part where there were other people in it, but that's cost of doing business. They're gonna quit, of course. Doesn't matter. The last couple of times I went, I didn't get to do what I wanted, anyway, and if I can't have catharsis, it's a meaningless activity.

If anything I was probably working out too hard and eating too much on the rebound because of it, because ha, what's a healthy diet and how would you eat well?

I think what makes me want to scream the loudest is that I've tried to have this for years. And they just don't listen. Still not listening. The new diet is giving me mysterious physical problems and I'm gonna get told to suck it up. I always do.

I don't know what I was even talking about, what I am talking about, I just want to whine somewhere, so I can keep going.

I want to get out of here, but I think it's not to be.

I think I'm gonna end up hooking up with the guy who's been doing a lot of our repair work. I just have that feeling of inevitability about it, and he's cute enough for a first go. Like, I can tell looking at him that it'd hurt, everything always hurts, there's always a payoff, something I give away for something I want, but it wouldn't suck, I wouldn't hate it.

I want to watch Demolition Man and scare up some Fruit by the Foot and pretend I'm thirteen and have my life ahead of me.

I'll probably just end up back in bed.