Didn't wake up until just a lil while ago.
Called toppers to let them know that there was just something WRONG with their calzone last night.
He could have been alright just by saying okay and they'd look into it. But instead he wanted me to list everything I'd eaten yesterday and argue with me.
See, he was told he was an ass.
The I wouldn't stop ordering pizza from them or being pleasant to the driver and even remaining a pretty heavy tipper.
But that he, on a personal level, was a total ass.
He seemed to take that with equanimity. Which is what I would expect from such an ass.
I feel pretty loopy today. I desperately need a shoulder rub/neck/back massage thingy. So very much so. All the muscles are brick like.
Kaeren made this post awhile back (I no linky because she's friends only and if you're on her friends list, you know who she is) about feeling like a cat with a sock over its head. How it just keeps backing up and backing up because it's all wigged out about the sock.
That's a pretty good analogy for how I feel today. Just very out of it and confused. I woke up with a thick fog in my head that coffee has yet to lift.
And I keep picturing how my cat smudge would do everything she could to get into paper bags and plastic bags and so forth and usually would turn around in them, so that her head faced out and just lay there in her little den with her little white face poking out. Startling yellow eyes.
But every now and again she'd change her mind, or decide something was wrong and try to get out and just.. *flip* out. Just thrash her head back and forth and knock things over and make a lil path of destruction in her need to be OUT OF THE BAG.
The more I think about it, that is a *brilliant* analogy for that particular feeling.
The sky today is this really strange color. Sort of the strained yellow and grey you get just before the dark stacked cumulo-nimbus clouds roll in and start crackling with lightning. The wind is a pretty constant fluttery. Enough to move your hair and make it float a little, but not enough to whip it around your face. I realize I should write more.
Just in general I should write more.
Spend time describing things in the aching, minute detail they deserve sometimes.
Or maybe just write more and fuck the descriptions.
I want things in the mail. I want my life to be cleaner of junk without the work. I want things to happen faster and with more definition. I want some more coffee. I want to go to school again. I want to find myself delighted by the world again.
I want to talk to Chad.