I'm back on the rock for now. The 10th prescription sleep-aid I've tried in three years seems to make me too tired to function the next day. I'm waiting for it to kick in, while blogging. That is dangerous territory, as some of you may know. If you receive any bizarre e-mails later, blame it on the rock. The rock is a crazy thing. It likes to pick out crazy outfits for work, fashion cocktail dresses to M.O.M., send congratulatory e-cards to the ex-boyfriend that used the true "rock," e-mail other exboyfriends, etc. The latest disaster involved shearing off my bangs. Luckily, it wasn't too bad. Some bar ho's in DW even complimented me on it and later referred to me as the "cute hair girl." That was nice, since, really, that's my thing. Cute. Not pretty, not sexy, not enchanting, just cute. I'm ok with that, although I'm considerably less cute then I was just a few years ago. I think the whole lawyering thing has aged me (as opposed to time and smoking). Well, I guess I don't really look old, I just don't look cute. Perhaps it's the bitterness that's taken away the cuteness. Losing two jobs in seven months will do that to you. So will 2 bar exams, five moves, four cities, and four jobs in 3 years. Add four animals to that mix, include the death of my social life, and it's a recipe for chaos. The only thing I mourn is the passing of my social life. Deadwood was so fun last weekend but I realized something on the ride home. It wasn't entirely different than a typical KU weekend. Too much to drink, packed bars, dancing, waiting in line to get into the bar, etc. Granted, there were no parades or gambling, but there was the occasional dirty trip to the Outhouse. Back to the chaos issue. It's my only constant. My desk, my office, my car, my finances, my apartment. All chaos. Love it or hate it, it's part of what defines me. If I didn't have chaos, I would be my sister. And, though she's thinner, younger, owns a home and lives like a real adult, she's kind of a grumpy bitch. And, she's settling for a douche bag. Don't get me wrong, I've dated my fair share of douche bags. I just never got the opportunity to make the piss poor decision to marry them. My fucking soma holiday has yet to kick in and I'm getting irritated. Seriously, i need sleep!!!!! This insomnia thing was ok for the first seven years. Mostly because I always had a companion of some sort that was up when I was up. However, I've come to tolerate it less over the last four years. It's me and three sleeping animals right now. That scenario isn't likely to change anytime soon. The Sheriff is supposedly coming out here the last week of the month. I'd be willing to start a pool and bet against the fact that he shows up.
Onto another note, L.A. Weightloss is stalking me. I haven't been there since December 26th, when they told me i lost 12 inches. I didn't believe them, since I was up 3 lbs, hadn't worked out, and I just thought it was a trick they used to show you "progress." That's what really sealed the deal with my disdain for them. And, I lost my "food diary." It's probably hiding with my last bottle of ambien and Bamboo's bracelet. I got a postcard in the mail today offering to give me my "lost weeks" for free and $10 off any product. We'll see. I mean, I'm obviously going to be fat in Hawaii. I can deal with it. My mom won't be able to. Actually, I won't be able to deal with it because my mom won't be able to deal with it. Not sure I can take the "looks" that she'll be shooting me all week. I'm actually wishing I wasn't going. Nothing worse than being the fat one on the beach with your family and they're thinking you're the fat one on the beach, too. What I really want is for Summer, Dawn and Collin to come with me so we can be the atypical people (not 16 with uber minis) hanging out together not giving a fuck about what other people look like or think about what we look like. Still no soma holiday. Regardless, I'll end the stream of conciousness here.
Let me know what you think of my Valentine's Day cards, once you receive them. If you didn't get one, let me know. I may have had a bad address for some of you. All were mailed today or yesterday.
Good night all, wishing you a restful slumber.
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