I'm like the rest of them with their thumbs up their asses
If you call, I will come
But I'm about as thick as molasses...
Weirded out again today. Woken up from dream that mother was having an affair and I was beating the crap out of her and screaming "Whore!" [Freudian much?] by kitty (Nibs?) meowing like a hurt child. She was just thirsty, but the whole thing was damn scary and disorienting at 8am on a Saturday.
Jittery, more than weirded out. I can honestly say, for the first time in years, that I want to go get drunk. Katie always accuses me of being boring ("Bring back Drunk Kerry!") and, while she's definitely right these days, I got turned off drinking a long time ago. But I could really do with a rum & coke right about now.
Getting ready to move. Spent today packing and throwing crap out, not like you'd notice though. Our closet is stacked with boxes we haven't even opened since we moved here in October. I'm torn between cracking them open to see what's inside and, theoretically, throw some of it out; purging the whole lot (whatever's in there hasn't been important enough for me to miss in the last 6 months, aside from a general "I wonder where that went?" kind of way - then again, maybe my frying pan's in there), and just keeping it neatly packed in the closet until we move into the house in September. Throwing stuff out is way harder than it should be. I have a very small box (or rather, box lid) of stuff for Agnes to check over before I chuck. Not as much as I thought I could find - a backpack I don't like, a Macedonian flag (don't ask), some gloves I bought at the dollar store, some random right-hand leather gloves without their left-hand counterparts. I couldn't bear to part with my nailpolishes (all 32 of them, not counting French tip pens) and found some makeup I haven't used in years but also can't throw out. Why am I such a hoarding wussy?
Watching Penny slide down her cage bars to the bottom of her cage, pick up a toilet paper tube and drag it, clenched in her beak, all the way up to her top branch. Cardboard tube caught on a branch and they both fell down to the bottom again. Now she's viciously pounding it with her beak for being uncoorperative. There's some good entertainment in that.
Readin' The Diamond Age (Stephenson)
Listenin' to Twice Removed (Sloan)
Thinkin' about the respective merits of booze and chill pills.
Most recently I was 
