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2001-07-28 / 12:48 p.m. ~This is me procrastinating~ No way was I going to get up at 6:30 on a Saturday, or apparently even 7:30, or 9:30, or, well, so on, and so on. I did manage to get up around 11:00, but I had to get online, check email, write to my uncle, change my color on my diary (and I still can't find one I really like, although I found a great shade of teal on someone's "older" page last night - the "view source" function didn't work though, so I couldn't copy the code), and make and drink a cup of Hazelnut coffee, etc. Now, well, it's almost 1:00, and the place I was going to take my car is only open 'til 5:00 on Saturday, and I just know if I drive over there, assuming my car is not dead in the parking lot, they will only look at me and shake their heads, all of them, mechanics working on Saturday, been there since 7:00 or so this morning, "Hah! you want us to fix your car TODAY?! Ha ha ha, ho ho ho, you've got to be kidding, do you know what time it is? You have to get your car here at 5:30, wait in line, and pray to our Lord Jesus Christ if you want to get your car fixed on a Saturday!". So, I'm procrastinating, I'm telling myself that Monday will be good enough, that I can get up early on Monday because I always get up early on Mondays, that I can call in - both my supervisor and manager are on vacation on Monday - and speak to the reigning woman in charge of us, tell her my poor car is broke, it's done broke, she'll understand, and I will take the day off. Oh man, that is so lame, that is so stupid, I really should see if I can get it done today, right? I have got to stop fucking off and accomplish something that is this important. Jonathan Cainer says that the horoscope for Aries for this week, starting today, is to not take foolish risks, to not gamble away something really important. He means me, he means me and my car. I really need my car. I'm being really stupid, and I know it, and he knows it too, all the way over there across the Pond, in England, he knows it. And he is going on vacation too. It's just that yesterday wore me out, the nine solid hours of worrying really got to me, the break in my normal routine, two days in a row of not being able to come home for lunch, not being able to drive to the ATM to deposit my paycheck, not being able to go where I want to go. It's wreaked serious havoc on my psyche. This morning, while I was not getting up, I dreamed my recurring theme dream, about the house I lived in when I was a teenager. My mom was there, alive, of course, and I was cleaning the house for her. She wasn't doing it and it needed to be done. My brother lived there too, which was weird, and I was going through the magazines in the living room, placing them on the dusty coffee table, his science mags, and National Geographics. I went into the addition, the "new room" as we always called it, and there were some photo albums I'd been missing. My old room contained a full size bed, not my old twin beds, bunk beds. It went on and on, this dream, not cut off for any reason, I wasn't awakened by any sound, or an alarm clock, I only woke up because I think I was tired of dreaming I was there, again, and having to deal with all that shit in my past. That house, again. Ugh. Guess I'll try to settle on a decent background color, probably go back to the first one I chose. And, maybe I'll call the auto repair shop, let them laugh at me on the phone, instead of in person. Cost of the War in Iraq
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