Lets see ~
Got sick got sick again, then sick again. I have nothing new to report. My life is a bummer, my new puppy is a shit machine.
Tom has spent the entire winter fucking off way more money then he should have whilst using paypal, and, AND all the while doing virtually to absolutly NOTHING. NOTHING. Im too depressed to be really outraged. But not too depressed to unabashedly bitch about it.
;)
Is it the division of labor? Is it that I just dont want to have what will just become some one sidded arguement that will frame me as a bitch cause I need to 'talk', and him as some self absorbed prick for shutting down cause I need to talk. Im no martyr, im not blinded, I know I do way more round here than he has or will do.
You know, its like getting yourself caught up in some freakishly wierd stage 5 squalor. Suddenly the house just gets filthier and filthier, you cant see the floor, everything you own or have ever owned is pilled up around you with your everyday trash items and at one point you look round..and fuck if you know how you got to that point and fuck if you know how your going to back your way out of stage 5 squalor without burning down the house ~
life is almost exactly like that at this point...or somehow that analogy just makes sense to me at the moment.
I cant find any decent headphones, the stupid fucking telly is on again...I might as well get a motherfucking implant...
Im still NOT smoking...though Tom is taking his sweet time in slowing down..(ill give him like a tiny bit of credit, but because he is the bain of my existence...it will only be a bit of credit), he is smoking those 'American Spirit'...granted he nurses the same ciggie thru three smokes..and only smokes about 4-7 ciggies in a full day...it is the constant ciggie breaks, the smell of it and the habit of it that is irking me...just fucking quit already. Ok..and since he is cutting back on that..he is a bit of a fuck. and of course, so am I...cause it bothers me.
The antidepressants the Dr has put me on are not taking away my depression or my anxiety attacks. Im having wierd dreams about Montana and peoples houses wrapped in plastic, and that is a reoccuring theme the last few months..going back to Montana in a car. Though before we went back to Montana in my dream I went into this meeting room/church and Oprah Winfrey was sitting in a vinyl aqua colored bar-co-lounger up on a raised platform, and was some sort of priest in a church, that she was the head of, with like two or three other celebrities that at the time I could identify..but now have faded, they were all part of some sort of religion. So over here on this end its just wierd.

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♦ French Toast Assassin is up late.

♦ French Toast Assassin is trying to find reasonably priced dsl.

♦ French Toast Assassin is not reading...bad sign.