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Saturday, Aug. 24, 2002 / 7:40 p.m. ~Typical - Nothing To Say and Writing Anyway~ I slept. I dreamed. I was at my old house, again. I was walking through the neighborhood, with whom?, and I said how close to town it is, what a great neighborhood, so close, but with trees, so quiet, but I don't like the architecture, the 'Ranch' style houses, but look, that one is Presidential style, or wait, maybe 'Federal', that's it, and who was I walking with? Back in my old house. I wanted to rearrange the furniture. I don't remember the rest. I dreamed and dreamed and I can't remember now. When I got up my throat was so clogged, like I smoked a pack of cigarettes, but I haven't been near a cigarette in a long time, just smog, just exhaust, just toxic fumes. I felt nauseous, sick, like I'm getting a cold. I drank coffee, I got online, I read the BB3 live feed recaps 'til I thought my eyeballs would fall out of their sockets, or I'd lose my eyesight, or something, then the live feeds themselves, watching Houseguests frolic in the yard, in the pool, not even listening to the blather. Reading and paying attention instead to a new fave diary, Minired, very entertaining, and she is like me in many ways, least of which is we are both ENFJs. I should re-take that test too. Now, sitting, headache still from waking. Headache and stiff neck on and off for days. Why? Too much Interweb? I wrote to Moby again. Yes. I thought of how he couldn't send email after his show here, how he was without journal updates for days, and I thought what if he got my email, and he wrote back but I didn't get it? What if? Stupid, I know. So I wrote again. I copied and pasted what I wrote before, I apologized for writing nastiness on his boards, for saying he may be in the closet and should come out to be a role model for his young gay fans. I had no business doing that. I don't know. I'm weird, I admit it. Hey, you know the longer you go without sex the less you want it? Okay, my personal experience, despite masturbating in the bathroom at work yesterday. That was just a whim. Sort of like seeing an open door and walking through it, because you can. Not because I'm horny. Because I'm not. No, I'm not. I'm tired. I'm sore. I don't feel well. The "Big Brother" broadcast is on shortly. After that? I don't know. I don't know anything today. Today is not what I thought it would be. I wanted to get up earlier than my usual sleep marathon Saturdays of late. It didn't happen. I got up earlier, yes, but I pulled myself from my dreams, I was logy, uncomfortable, feeling sick, and now I'm.... as I say, I don't even know. Give me a couple hours to figure it out. Maybe coffee and some noodle soup haven't quite given me what I need. Not yet. I'm listening to them yawn as I type. Those BB people, those hamsters in the house. Not obsessed, it's just that I can listen, so I am. Listening. Maybe I realize all I am not doing. Maybe I am not even thinking about it, maybe I am writing though I have absolutely nothing to say. Nothing. Cost of the War in Iraq
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