did you ever just annoy the fuck out of yourself by doing the same dumb things, saying the same dumb things, writing the same dumb things…
yeah, me neither.
Very often when I am either too lazy or too lazy to get off the couch, I’ll get an idea for a blog post and know realistically that my brain won’t hold it so I jot down a few key words to jog my memory until I am ready to write something. Most of the time I just forget about it and will find it months later and have no clue what it means, especially the notes that are so random that they make no sense on their own. Dogs, puppies, homeless, tv. And those numbers are from another day and could be anything from how many people I hated that day to how many times Tony Goldwyn on Scandal says “I’m the leader of the free world” which would actually place him on the first list.
I never understood why doctors with kids needed pediatricians. Now I sound like I’m doing stand-up and that is not my intention. But seriously (obviously not that seriously), why would Dr. Cox be in a panic because his kid is sick? I mean he’s a doctor himself. We don’t have puppy vets, do we? But how cute would that job be?
Way to get too invested in a sit-com.
And instead of thinking about homeless people starving or finding a safe, warm, decent place to sleep, I found myself panicked when I realized they couldn’t watch tv.
I truly apologize for being this person.
What New York City said to me upon my return from North Carolina –
Welcome the fuck home…
I walked down 6th Avenue from the boutique toy store carrying a bag full of store profits on my way to purchase a $5 latte. A small latte.
I was embarrassed for both the West Village & myself. More for myself.
When passing the spot where ‘World of Video’ used to sit, I felt absolute anger & resentment for the paint and hardware store in its place. In lieu of somewhere to have a spirited conversation about classic films with a passionate and educated staff was now a place you could purchase a hammer.
Sometimes I want to kick myself in the ass but find that my head is already up in there and that would make for way too much going on with my ass.
I was so bored, lost & aimless today that I took a strange pill that someone left on the washing machine in the laundry room of my building. I’ve had it for about
7 months now and have just been carrying it around for a special day.
I looked up the imprint and it should be Klonopin, which is totally fine, even wonderful but I’m also afraid that it’s laced with something like rat poison and one of the crazy mean people who just ride the elevator all day left it on the machine to kill someone because they were having a bad day.
So if I’m dead, can someone else please make my kid the Market Street Meatloaf I promised for tonight? It’s a lot of preparation but she loves it and will be really sad about me dying so just buck up.
And she likes real mashed potatoes with that, none of that boxed stuff.
I just went to text someone by using the remote control.
Absolutely no justification for this behavior. None.