Friday, January 20, 2006
Peg used to tell me a story every night before bed; my favorite being the one about the day she almost drowned and then went home and got hit by a car. I’ve been bored lately. Bored crazy in everything that I do, though nothing is actually wrong. I wish there was some tangible reason for why I am so bored and full of pity for myself. Yeah, I’ve been going to the gym, but of course it takes 21 days for something to become habit. So give me 14 more days, and maybe I’ll be in the best mood ever. But until then, it’s nothing. Just me and a whole bunch of bullshit. I need someone to tell me a story. Something good, bad anything. Because, I feel like I’m fresh out. The only story I have now involves a giant sized man in Bank of America who didn’t know who Brad and Angelina were. The other story should be good, but it’s bad because it’s disappointing and unexpected, but mostly really disappointing. Now I’m not only disappointed, I’m annoyed and on the verge of tears about something that most wouldn’t be crying about. But alas I am very close to tears. And well, this just sucks. Really fucking sucks.