Guess What?

I’m not depressed! I got over it, or got over myself, or whatever. Point being, I’m feeling much better.   Maybe Brian’s humunahs cured me?  Or maybe it was the new Go Jimmy Go CD?   Or maybe it was Sibrina’s many kind words and phone calls?   I thank you all for thinking of me, and for kicking me in the pants.

Also, how can I be depressed when there’s a three day weekend coming up?   A three day weekend with fireworks, no less.

I had a really good salad the other day, too.   Oh, and I’ve been blowing the diet.   Had myself a peanut butter and jam buritto last night.   And chocolate ice cream.   And Newcastle.   MMmmmmmm Carbs!

Every day is a new opportunity to try to eat better and fail miserably.

I need a hug

Okay, so for nor particular reason, really, I’m kind of blue.  Just the non-specific bummers.   I just need a hug . . . actually, twenty three hugs would be better.   Or, you know, 58.   Actually, 1003 hugs might help me feel a little better.   So, if you see me soon, and you want to give me a squish, I’d appreciate it.

Tales of the City to follow, when I’m in a better frame of mood to tell.   The story of Time Square is not to be missed.   You’ll like, I swear.   High-jinks aplenty.

I love you.  Good night!

I hate drama!

Do you ever get so mad that you just want to bite something? I know that doesn’t make any sense, but I’m just frustrated, want to scream, want to throw food, want to kick and scratch and bite, want to hop up and down, shake my fists, and just throw a fit.

In the end, what I’ll probably end up doing is crying, which just bites.

On a more positive note, it’s going to be a fun weekend. More Aggrolites. Some Los Hooligans. Some Monkey. Friends. Yay!

And when I’m dancing, none of this will matter.