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Thursday, Apr. 24, 2003 / 11:43 p.m. ~Me Too, But Not As Bad~ There seems to be a correlation between having a password-protected diary and a decrease in SPAM email. I read the other day that female cats, in the 'wild', generally 'command' an average of 150 acres, or, that is commonly the held territory for the female cat. Of course, we might presume that is the 'intact' female cat, non-hysterectomied. N and G become bored, especially during nocturnal wanderings. G vies for my attention. 11:05 p.m., I was falling asleep, and trying to decide if falling asleep was okay, on the sofa, with G on my lap, or more likely my chest. The news was on, all you need to know for the next day in the first 11 minutes. She jumped off, and at 11:40 p.m. I was sitting here, eating Tagalongs, unlocking my diary, locking it, unlocking it, almost taking an EMode test to see how passionate I am, but realizing this particular test is for teenagers. Today I listened to his message on my answering machine again, analyzing it, enjoying the sound of his voice, and it was by accident, as I was really listening to the man who wants me to attend his seminar, reading from a script, telling me he's unsure if I really do want to start my own home-based business. I erased him and in the effort made extra careful special sure I didn't erase the previous message, had to listen to it to get it to the right spot on the tape to tape the next man who reads from a script, the one who wants to tell me he's in my area installing satellite dishes, and I could save so many dollars a month if I'd only let him come and install his satellite in my.... it all sounds so dirty. Tagalongs rule. I put them in the fridge after I opened them and ate three. My neck is killing me. I've had headaches every day this week. They hit me as I'm getting ready to go to work, maybe about the time I'm fully accepting that this is my destiny, this working for a living thing. The jaw tightens, the neck starts to throb with pain, throat constricts, I get to work and I'm assaulted by bad, stale air, too much perfume, dust, I sit and want to cry. I went back a year in this diary, and this is what I wrote, to the day, one year ago: I�m not unhappy because I�m on my own. I�m not feeling that there is some other half out there in the world, someone who will �complete me�. I feel complete. I�m not doing what I want, we know this, but I don�t really feel that a man, and children, will make my life more worth living. So, when a man comes into the picture, into my personal picture, it only seems to obscure everything else, to make everything cloudy, confused. I now have two men wanting something from me. And neither is a man I would have chosen for myself. This makes me very uncomfortable. That seems like a lifetime ago, but sort of like it was just a year ago. Bobby Burgess' current diary entry is really heavy. Well written, as always - he has a great style - and it makes me think of me, in a way. I don't binge and purge, I never purge, I am not anorexic, but I have an odd relationship with food. And lately I'm supremely unhappy with my body. I've acquired the old fashioned 'secretary spread'. My ass, my hips, my belly are growing exponentially, while my breasts are shrunken, saggy lumps, my arms are Concentration Camp thin, my legs are hairy and peg leg skinny. This could be my own perception, and I have days during which I gawk at my own naked image in the mirror, where I think I'd be quite a catch for someone's sexual interest. But in general, I've given up, I don't make any attempt to improve, I don't 'watch what I eat', I eat whatever I can find, and now that it's warmer, that I'm more inclined to wear less clothing at home, when I'm lounging, I see what's happened, and I don't like it. It's inspiring, of course, it makes me want to try, again, but it's the first step that's the hardest to take. It's making it happen when I just want to lie down. Listerine and I talked about how much we hate where we work, but we have to stay, we can't just walk out, today at the end of the day, just the two of us around. We both feel stuck, we both are so unhappy. I never thought I'd feel a kinship with her, but I do. I'm being assaulted by SPAM again. Two in the past few minutes. This is temporary. Not in the large scale, but that too, no, the diary, the locking, the unlocking. Until I've got control, it's in flux. At times I feel I want no one to read any of this. Almost 900 entries, it's mind boggling. Cost of the War in Iraq
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Recent Entries: It Was 40 Years Ago Today - 9:44 a.m. , Friday, Oct. 12, 2012 Dead Black Cat - 9:07 a.m. , Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012 As Seen From Outer Space - 1:07 a.m. , Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009 I Survived to Tell the Tale - 7:29 a.m. , Friday, Sept. 18, 2009 Reading My Life - 12:55 p.m. , Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009 
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