Update: Heh, after I posted this, WordPress gave me a quote that said “Be obscure clearly. -E.B. White”. Appropriate, no?  So physically I’m not feeling any better today (am in fact staying home and working on ISO stuff via logmein, and heading to the doctor in a few hours). Mentally, much more stable. Perfect storm of not so much events as conditions, last night, and I got to one of those points where I just needed to scrape my brain out. Haven’t done that in a long, long time. It was much needed. And it wasn’t like I was doing anything else, except foaming about Doctor Who. So: don’t worry, I haven’t cracked up or anything; I just needed to spew. And I did! Oh good, my kettle’s ready. Oh btw, I really do hate our bathroom, for pretty much the reasons I describe below. 😛

————Original, somewhat scary, post below—————

I’m tired of being sick. I’m tired of being depressed. I’ve had a drawing in my head for *counts* four days now. No, five. Five days. I think about it in the car, on the way to work, on the way home. I’m home now. I’m sick. I’m thinking of this thing and there’s nothing I want to do on the internet and I want to watch Ghostbusters but I can’t because Netflix is only good for TV shows. It is pretty good for TV shows, for us, because we don’t care about things most people care about, so it has a lot of shows we want to watch, but all the same it’s not so good for movies and that gets really frustrating. So I don’t have anything to do right now

instead of working on that drawing i’m sitting here typing this. I’m correcting typos, but only spelling and punctuation related ones. Capital letters don’t count, apparently. I’m sitting here typing this instead of working on drawing anything; my sketchbook is only over in the other room. I think. It may have moved during a cleaning binge, but i’m pretty sure i know where most of them are. Rich even went out to get his bike from the shed today and i asked him to get some of my… uh, drawing supplies, and he did though i didn’t see where he put them i meant to ask him about that. and i’m not moving from the couch.

 

 

i’m pretty much just sitting here. got my head down on my arm now; i am bloody tired after all. should just go to bed, but like the last three nights, my thoughts there have been “I’m sick, I need sleep, I should go to bed” and then “NO SCREW THAT i want to do something else but i don’t know what so i’ll just sit here until i don’t think of something.” I’m typing this bit with my eyes closed now, so there may be more typos. I’m not mucking with the backspace key with my eyes shut, even though I just did twice.

I need a shower too but i don’t want one, i hate showers. they’re a waste of important time that could be spent doing something more important, like nothing maybe. i have to go all the way in the bathroom and heat the water and find clean clothes and sweep the floor because the goddamn cat can’t keep his cat litter in the box and even after i sweep he insists on knocking it all over the floor again right away so i basically hate the bathroom, but we don’t really have any other option for where to keep the litterbox in a small house. shut up.

 

 

 

i’ll give you stream of goddamn consciuosness.

 

maybe this is one of those things where i shouldn’t hit publish but i kind of want to see what happens if i do.

 

draft saved, my ass. saving fucking draft. wordpress.

 

 

I WANT TO GET OUT

OF M Y GODDAMN HEAD ALREADY

 

SHUT UP

I’M TALKING TO YOU NOT THE VOICES IN MY HEAD THE ONLY ONE IN HERE IS MINE AND IT AGREES WITH ME. BECAUSE IT FUCKING IS ME.

 

i don’t want to take a shower.

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