Well, what do you wanna hear, man?! Do you wanna hear that sometimes I think about eatin' a bullet?! Huh? Well, I do! I even got a special bullet for the occasion with a hollow point, look! Make sure it blows the back of my goddamned head out and do the job right! Every single day I wake up and I think of a reason not to do it! Every single day! You know why I don't do it?! This is gonna make you laugh! You know why I don't do it?! The job! Doin't the job! Now that's the reason!
-Riggs, Lethal Weapon, 1987
 

Something in the universe is seriously out of whack, and I'm not sure how to put it right. My first thought was I was watching too much Sentinel and not enough X-Files, but I'm not sure if that's exactly it, although I am trying for a more balanced diet. I mean, the goods, well, holy shit are they good. (23 sleeps!! and right upstairs--if that don't prove the existence of God, I don't know what does! :) ) But what about the rest of it. Maybe I should be doing more, but I already feel like I'm dying every day, and nap time at work seems to be extending itself (Yay for Red bull, double Yay for Jolt--in the pretty can that looks like a battery). I'm just seriously freaked here, and it's pissing me off that I can't figure it out. Is it an age thing? A fat thing? A period thing that didn't end after the five days? I pray more now than I ever did--and no, not just the 'oh, my life is so hard fix it' Scarlet O Hara crap, but the serious, thank you so much for all the gifts in my life stuff--cos really, hello, have you seen my life? It really doesn't get much sweeter than this most days. And yet. And yet. *sigh*. For those of you who notice shit like this, the quarter-yearly drunk seems to have been bumped up to a biweekly thing, and I'm not sure how I feel about that, either. I mean, I know why last night happened, but even that--hey, if you can fill out a ten page meme, you can't really be dying, right? But still...
Ah, Jeez, I'm too messed up even for self-analysis. Example--these updates should have been done three hours ago so I could have the house clean for company--I still haven't even got to the storage room of doom yet--and so, naturally, I read some porn, then heard the words 'Lee Harvey Oswald' from the living room and watched a documentary on the men in black/real life manchurian candidates, and fell asleep on the couch. What sane person does that? And fell asleep sitting up, which admittedly feels good when I do it (less fat pressing on my lungs) but now my left foot is the size of my fridge and sorer than hell.
God! I'm so whiney! I have no right!
Okay, Kungalini breathing, affirmations, more prayer and dammit, I'm going to find the kitchen table if it kills me. Enough of this.