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10-08-04 7:30 a.m. That would be my bottom lip you're standing on.
Yanked out of dream by the umbilical chord to my pathetic reality. Of what I was dreaming,
I'm not quite sure. I get the sense it was about loss, regret and mistakes I have made.
Less than 6 hours sleep and here I am all bluer than midnight, what a way to start off the
day. These are some lovely purple, hopeless sad-luck bruises.
You better watch your step.
11:19 p.m. Kick me in my buckethead will you?
Feeling amazingly sexy all full belly and eating chocolate covered peanuts while listlessly
channel surfing the vacuum. Oh, it's Friday night! How exciting! Not really. I took the
beat down from work this week and have been ready to just go to friggin' sleep for the past
few hours. The only reason I'm up is because it's quiet. That really nice quiet and calm
that you can only appreciate after you've had people paging you all week with some whacked
out gotta-be-done-asap issue or problem. If I wasn't too lazy to put pen to paper these days I probably wouldn't
even want to look at a computer screen. Tomorrow I've already decided will not involve anything
more mechanical or electronic other than the car that will get me to a park if the
weather holds. I've lost touch with too many of the things that used to bring me peace.
I haven't done anything particularly creative in months so my juices need juicing... Boy
did that come out sounding err.. wrong.. Anyway, it's not like there's a town to paint and
I was informed by a male coworker, (of course), that I'll never get a girl with the car I'm
driving. The thing that seems to elude him as well as most of the other people I work with
is that I don't and wouldn't go out with someone if I thought that even a percent of the
reason they were "attracted" to me was because of the car I drive. Talk about something
that tops my "Doesn't Matter" list.. isn't the fact that I at least have one enough??
The fairest of the seasons.
My therapist has started "dipping" again. Fuck I hate the South. Are there people in the
North that go in for therapy that have to watch their therapist stick a wad of chew in their
mouth?? His wife, who's a Clinical Psychologist, has informed him that she will withhold sex from
him if he buys another can after he finishes this one. I could've sworn that was supposed
to be a no-no. Don't they say that that's a no-no in marriage counseling? She's also
threatened to tell their liberal Christian (??) daughter that he's resumed which apparently
will get him a number of lectures on the ills of tobacco. The only thing I know is I had fun
turning the tables and being cheeky in the session: So, Charlie.. it appears we have something
we need to talk about.. .. What made you go back to dipping? Let's talk about the thinking
process you went through..
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