Muddle

[illusionofjoy]

After re-playing things that people have said to me over the past 48 hours in my head all morning, I decided that I would either have to kill someone or clean my apartment to death. I am pleased to report that I am likely in possession of the most sterile toilet in all of Mt. Lebanon. I still haven't done dishes though. I hate doing dishes.

Other than being a bit annoyed by humanity in general, I've managed to once more muddle through my usual Monday routine. My time card has been turned in at the temp agency and now I'm at the library.

In fact, I'm probably at the library a little too late, considering my work schedule and the matter of my lack of sleep not only today, but yesterday as well. I also have one final errand to run: buying a mass transit pass for next month. This means dragging myself to one of two grocery stores, both conveniently located a handful of trolley stops away from my apartment.

I'm also hungry now. I wonder if I can find anything fast that isn't "fast food." I tire of grease...

I should reply to an email I received first...

I wish I didn't have to go into work tonight. At least I have a three-day weekend coming up, so I can catch up on sleep. I'm seeing the girl on Friday and I'm sure she'll let me sleep. In any case, she'd better let me sleep...

Come to think of it, right now I don't feel like doing much of anything save flipping off the world. I hate these moods; they make for bad journal entries. I'm going to buy my mass transit pass, get some food and lock myself away in my apartment. END TRANS