I made a mistake today. I went shopping at Target. It seemed like every lethargic, diseased, loping neanderthal was out in force. There were scores of pasty white citizens driving around the store in motorized carts with oxygen tanks and children in tow.
I’m back at the house, and plan to stay here for the rest of the day.
I have been alternating walking around the house in my pajamas and a scarf, wrapped in a blanket, and laying on the couch. Usually this behavior is accompanied by a sense of frustration and annoyance that I’m not doing anything “worthwhile”, while not having enough energy or motivation to actually do something “worthwhile”. Today for some reason, I’m really enjoying myself.
Go, me.
I do not look like Ellen DeGeneres. People please stop telling me this. If you want to say something like, “Gee , Cindigo, you really remind me of Ellen DeGeneres because your so funny and charming”, yes, I will accept that. Saying in an excited, too friendly tone, “Oh my gosh, do you know who you look like…” and not ending the sentence with Angelina Jolie, will get you no love and most likely, I will be kicking you in the teeth in my mind.
I wrote this on 10/19/01:
You know what doesn’t impress me that used to? Boys….boys lately have been boring and predictable. I hate to generalize and stereotype, because, I really try not to do that, but, it’s hard. It’s very, very hard. I am just waiting to be impressed and amazed…I’m dying to be impressed and amazed. Somebody, please, please impress and amaze me.
I would like to report that on 11/8/2004 I am impressed and amazed by my husband every day. I love him madly. I just thought you all should know.
We went to a party. Yes, it’s true, out of the house and everything. I know I could write about the toxic rum punch, the dancing like Michael Jackson, the new friends we met, but….no. I just don’t feel like it. And I ask myself, why am I writing if I don’t feel like it? I feel like I should? I feel like if my life isn’t documented, that it really doesn’t exist? I have to feel guilty about something, so why not this? Yes, yes, yes, all true. But what I really want to say that’s exciting to me is, that I’m beginning to feel not sick.
For almost three days now I’ve felt like I’ve been carrying around twenty gallons of water that was somehow magically suspended over the entire surface area of my skin. The ghosts in my skull took pleasure in banging small, powerful pneumatic sledgehammers behind the center of my forehead. I’ve been snappy and cranky and slept for almost twelve hours yesterday.
The thing that is most exciting to me is that I’m beginning to swim to the surface of this thing. This thing that I was sure was death coming to take me home. I told Andy that I thought that “this might be the big one”. I was sorry, but I saw the great white shining light of Jesus and he was calling me home. You know what that guy, that some say is my husband, told me? He said, “Well, Cindigo, I better play some more poker to pay for your funeral.” Then he laughed. He cracked himself up even.
Okay, maybe I cracked up a little too. Maybe I was being a teensy bit dramatic to garner some attention. I know, I know, totally not my style (insert sarcasm font
I’ll just say it for the past few days and project a few days into the future, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry”.
Do you guys know it’s football season? It took me a few Sunday’s to put it together, but I figured it out. Did you also know that they play football games not only every Sunday, but (get ready for this) Monday night too!
