Heavy Morning

I'm trying to get up the balls to call Scott sometime this afternoon about my book, but be cool about it. Y'know, as opposed to "Hey, you were the best thing that ever happened to me, I miss you so much it makes me nauseous sometimes, but I know there's no point in asking for a second chance or anything especially as I'd be too wound up wondering when you'd dump me again and so forth. So, um, can I have my book back please?"

And I'm worried about Jim. And Andrew. And Carolynn. And my job interview tomorrow.

Being a spaz sucks!!

Today's Amusingly Situated Headlines

CIA, FBI reach new agreement on intelligence
Pitt, Jolie spark at box office with "Smith"


Nothing like a federal government that enjoys movies, no?

Sundays at My House: a brief dialogue

Me: Hi, I am suffering increasingly intense physical pain due to a migraine and emotional pain due to a variety of reasons. Would it be possible for you, my roomies whom I pay money to live in your ghetto, to be quiet at least while I wait for the medication to kick in?

Roomie: Why no, how dare you suggest that we, instead of vacuuming these cushions directly outside of your door, take them down the hall or even outside in order to make you less shivery and nauseous? That is deeply inconsiderate of you!

Me: I figured so. Pardon me while I go back to bed and curl up in fetal position under pillows in the hopes that that will somehow help.