09.28.02 It is quiet... Quiet is a fucked up thing. Sometimes. Boyfriend has left for work & I can hear the refrigerator humming. I am out of coffee and I am chugging Mr. Pibb straight out of the 2 liter bottle... i still can't shake the xanax out of my system... We had company last night for the first time in a week and I spent the whole time on the computer... me- 3 sheets to the wind. Is that even a saying? Maybe it is something my mom made up. She is full of those descriptions that refer to one that is intoxicated. "Drunk as a hoot-owl", "Drunk as Cooter Brown" (I don't get it either), & "3 sheets to the wind"... At any rate, I can't "interface" with the people that were in my livingroom last night. The truth is that I couldn't interface with what they had laid out in perfect little lines on my coffee table... I think I will go to the library today. Get some bookage. Wash my sheets... maybe clean out my car... Or maybe I will just get back into bed. |
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