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Tuesday, May. 11, 2004 / 6:18 p.m. ~If Time Flies, Why Oh Why Can't I?~ I think this is as good a time as any to pound a little something out, keep up the momentum I've regained. Yes, we're coming up on three years of solid drivel documented right here on ye olde Diaryland servers. Whoo hoo! Coming up. Shall we celebrate? I think not. Things may not seem to have changed one lick in my past three years, but it's all very different. By degrees, lift off the cap and have a look underneath. So very different, and exactly the same. Daily drivel portion of the entry: I left work early to get my teeth cleaned. The hygienist suggested I return to work. Little does she know I am soon going to be forced to use massive amounts of vacation time... or lose it. Tomorrow is Wednesday already. Seems like it was just Wednesday, last Wednesday, and last Tuesday (if you're keeping track you know this was one week ago this very day) I saw Edie Brickell in concert. Tonight is veg in front of the best night on TV night. And let's hope, please, that I do not fall asleep. I missed "The Restaurant" last night. I plum forgot. Did I miss anything? I'm figuring out my exhaustion, not the dizziness, but the exhaustion. I need to get more sleep. Sounds simple, huh? It's taken me weeks to figure this out. And I need to eat. Like real food. Like good food. Like fruits, veggies, grains, a few meats, fresh stuff, some raw foods, and more of them, at regular intervals. Not so much cheddar popcorn (thank god I ran out, but thank god I can go to the store to buy more, and soon!) and cereal bars. Nay, I need sustenance to maintain. I need to maintain myself. Maintenance, as concept and theory, is the bane of my existence. Ah, to be one of my cats, just lounging, begging for attention, or food, or whatnot, not having to do more than the occasional grooming. Everything is taken care of. No dusting, vacuuming, car repairs, broken air conditioners, laundry to do, groceries to buy, litter to scoop and change. I want a maid. And a large sum of disposable income. Or vice versa, in any order. I'm tired. But the reasons are obvious. I just need to pay more attention. I am slovenly and lazy. I could have been cleaning the past 3 hours instead of reading and writing online. Coulda, shoulda, woulda, but I have the bestest excuses. They are sound and pat. Nightly news with my older man crush, one Dan Rather, then endless TV. Maybe dishes? Wash some, at least? Ack, who cares, fiddle dee dee, and such, there's always tomorrow, right? Wednesday? Already? So, it's almost the weekend, again??? Cost of the War in Iraq
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