Holy crap do I not understand my body at all. I’ve spent much of the day feeling fairly blah and rundown, and now, all of a sudden, it’s switched to horny.

Huh?

*sigh* I was feeling for awhile like I just didn’t want to go to the gym, but I know I’ll feel better after I go. Today is the day of errands. Actually, this week is the week of errands, and waiting to find out on things — like if I’ve won the bid to get a PDA (just for reading on the bus, loser that I am), or its keyboard, or the Wrinkles backpack. What can I say? I’m forming my own wacky sense of style.

Along those lines, I have what I’ve termed my crazy cat lady bag that my mom got me for Christmas. This bag has been complimented by a number of my coworkers, an anonymous older lady at Future Shop, and just most recently a coworker around my age at the station. It’s also been critiqued/mocked by a coworker at the station, but he’s someone that half the time I don’t mind and the other half the time I want to pound into a bloody pulp because he’s so stupid, immature and obnoxious.

I am the Queen of tolerance and love.

Yesterday I dealt with the bitchy nurse at my doctor’s office, and semi-bullied her into giving me another appointment with my doctor. I’m *tired* of not understanding what the hell my body is doing at any given moment, and I’m tired of eating primarily bread. Not to mention I’m tired of being so damn hungry all the time, contrasted with feeling sick or not interested in eating whatever I buy/prepare (although that last part could be tied into PMS, joy that that is). I was saying to my coworker that it could be my metabolism all of a sudden just racketing up, which would be fun, but possibly expensive — there’s a lot of food and money involved in keeping my body quiet (although I know it’s only a mere fraction of what many of my male friends consume).

I could have sworn I had something actually interesting to say here, but for the life of me I can’t really think of it. My celebrations about the lack of sauna-ness of my apartment were probably a little bit too soon; while I do once again have heat, the thermostat is still on the same delayed reaction cycle that it was on before. I brought the temperature up (partly to test that I wasn’t mistaken and I did, in fact have heat), and now I’m trying to convince it to go back down to a reasonable temperature once more. It makes for more comfortable sleeping, at the very least (which last night kinda wasn’t).

There we go. I was hunting through my archives in an attempt to uncover when Gord’s birthday was. I found the evening we went out for Chinese, but I’m not sure of the actual date (I think it’s the 3rd, but I’m a loser and can’t remember anyone’s birthdays unless I write them down). It’s always interesting reading through the archives and seeing what was going on in my life at that time, and how different it was from now… Ah, nostalgia, my good friend. And actually, from that time (well, thereabouts, February 12th): “A quote: “Well, that was my first thought, then I decided “Why not actually /playing/ the game instead of molesting helpless CG monkeys?” Then I decided “CG monkeys are more fun than playing the game,” and I molested my monkey.””

I know who said it, but I totally don’t remember what brought it on. What game were we played that had CG monkeys?!

I also found my post that featured my fish plotting against me, so let’s show some love for that bit of genius. I can call it genius when it’s my own writing, right?

And another quote from same source as before: “”It’s not a toy… it’s a meaty piece of manmeat.” ” Man, I love having friends and boyfriends and exes who can make me laugh. πŸ™‚

I got Ben good on one about a week ago or so. See, the night that we went to the spaghettif-fest-o-rama, Ben and I were clowning around as we were about to leave, and I punched him lightly in the stomach. He retaliated with a fist to mine, then started taking off… so I turned and *very lightly* squeezed and felt something squishy — I figured I’d grabbed peenie. He claims it was nuts, so whatever.

Anyhow, we were talking online a few nights ago, and I was getting ready for bed, so I said to him, “I got sack that needs hitting, and for once it ain’t yours. ;)” He said he almost sprayed milk out his nose. Oh yeah, I’m the funny.

*dances*

And last night one of my neighbours was baking bread, and it smelled really good. I was told I should invite myself over for some, but I don’t think they’d have appreciated me in my pyjamas, with my little gut hanging out. Have I mentioned I totally sex myself up when I get home from work? Oh yeah, I’m hot shit. πŸ™‚

Time for the gym… byebye.

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