saint-louise's Diaryland Diary
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Who wants some? Yeah, I didn't think so...
Okay. I admit it. I haven�t been busy or stressed or unmotivated or lacking in funny or injured or dead or moody or overwhelmed by an aversion to the Internet that makes me break out in hives and, occasionally, song.
I�ve just been zoning out. Hard core.
I would have been back sooner, but after that length of time in a state of semi-consciousness, I needed a shower. And a bucket of mashed potatoes with gravy. And then I fell asleep for a day or two.
But now I�m here. So, you know, hooray for that.
Recently, I�ve been prone to mildly inappropriate behavior. I say �mildly� because I haven�t been so far gone as to make insensitive and appalling comments about the psychological effects of rape, get drunk and proposition a reporter, or expose my breast and then immediately lay out the drunk college bimbo I-had-no-idea-that-was-going-to-happen-I�m-SHOCKED-but-did-you-happen-to-like-what-you-saw excuse. But perhaps those particular examples of what I might have done (given the time, resources, and a leather bustier) have elevated inappropriate levels in direct correlation with the publicity involved.
The over-publicity, that is.
Make it stop. It hurts.
But my behavior? Its mild inappropriateness is manifested mainly in such acts as telling my boss that he smells of mildew. As I did yesterday. During a meeting.
Not so much exciting as it is bizarre, huh?
I won�t be showing up in News of the Strange any time soon, though, I�m sure.
Other moments of madcap thrills that are coming up in my life include a trip to Michigan in June to visit the Saintly Patriarch. If I�m really lucky, I�ll experience another weather anomaly like the unusual humid spell that occurred during my last visit two years ago. Maybe we�ll get a freak snow storm. Or fire and hail and frogs. Or murderous ghosts that appear in a meandering fog.
The anticipation is killing me.
By the way�I do keep a bottle of saline solution at OH�s house and at my own. I was recently struck with the stupidity of this.
Saline is the symbol for my stagnant life.
Woe!
10:24 a.m. - 2004-02-11
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