outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary

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Hump Day

It's just about two now, and I've done very well pretending that the past six hours haven't been brutal. My subconscious hardly knows at all! Here's the trick: mess something up early in the morning, so that you have to spend some time figuring out what you did wrong, and then fix it. That (the fixing) makes you feel all useful and necessary, and you can spend the rest of the day feeling like your time isn't being wasted, and your work is important. Just ignore the fact that you caused the problem in the first place.

Um, what else? There has been too much talk of tv today, therefore I refuse to mention it myself. Besides, I'm beginning to wonder if I wouldn't be happier without the box. You think? Or at least have it in a place not associated with my bed. I refer you to that mental image I'm sure you have, of a couch potato lying flat out with just the head inclined slightly, to maximize viewing ability, slack-jawed and with one crusty paw lost in a big bag of cheese curls. You see? Occasionally, and with much horror, do I find myself starring in this role.

Not helping the situation is the weight I've put on lately. Firstly from the cruise, and secondly from being unable to exercise since I've had my teeth out. In the beginning I wasn't supposed to bounce around much lest I "disturb my clots", and now there's no way I'm going to jumprope and have my poor bruised cheeks flopping up and down. Swimming just seems like a bad idea for some reason; I just think maybe a mouthful of chlorinated water may not be the best thing for the healing process. Probably the best thing I could do right now is some situps and things of that nature, which I will do now that Rob won't be at my place tonight. In fact, now that I think about it, I might as well work myself to exhaustion, because this is the first night I'll not be sleeping with Rob in about three weeks, and I'm bound to feel that super fun duo, loneliness and fear, that tend to show up in situations like this.

Of course I won't really work myself to exhaustion. That's a laugh and a half. If I can maintain enough motivation to do twenty curls I'll be impressed. Blech. Being a sloth is very yucky.

And speaking of being a sloth...I have nothing else to say right now. My mind is following my body's example. BUT (drum roll) I have not gotten on chat at all today. That should be worth something, and it is. It is worth approximately three hours of my time. Only, it sounds so delicious now...mm, chat...chat chatty chatty chatty chat chat...

There's only an hour and a half of the day left, would it be so bad if I chatted it the fuck away?

(grumble)

Ok, I'll just read some more Straight Dope Message Board posts. Like *that's* any more productive.

I'll be chatting by 3, mark my words.

1:54 p.m. - 2002-05-22

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