there's a sweet smell of frustration in the air... no, that's chocolate chip cookies... I've come here to write to distract myself from the fact that my roommates have occupied the kitchen for the last three hours and the fact that they've eaten dinner and are baking cookies seems to have left no room in their heads for the thought that I have not eaten yet today and might like to... of course I could have gone into the kitchen and evicted them for a few minutes to pop something in the microwave, but I am having way too much fun feeling sorry for myself and blaming them...

this is a whiney entry, please skip it unless you really love me... or want to be my mother...

and then I'm asked to hook up my other computer so Precious can use it (definitely need to work out the bill situation so I am not paying for everything... since I'm grumbling today)... it's not everything they are using in the kitchen, it is that I am damn hungry... my last meal was about 21 hours ago... I worked, I slept, I woke and figured some time between 4PM and 8PM I might get a little kitchen time to cook myself some dinner... but noooo, and who cares about me anyhow and waaa waaa waaa...

I want my mommy...

no, actually, my mommy is the last place I'd go for sanctuary or compassion or sensitivity or nurturing (no wonder I'm still searching for unconditional love, huh?... oh sure, serious self-analysis is just what I need right now... no, not really)... but really, I've been cooking for myself since the time I was six years old because I did not want to eat dried out unseasoned burnt meat... and even though I am hungry, even that does not appeal to me... I know, if I get hungry enough... been there, done that, don't want to go back... besides, hunger is mostly psychological most of the time (I hate it when I want to throw a pity party and my mind only partially cooperates... I mean, who invited good sense?)...

so I took a walk...

I didn't get to the gym though... I am still cautious and babying the body, not to mention my gorged big toe that would mean having to do any workout in my socks... laziness too, of course... laziness is always looking for a good excuse to not work out... the macho fool says what's a little kidney stone or few?... good sense falls somewhere in between... if I didn't have to work tonight, I'd probably be at the gym... but four hours sleep, having to stay awake and focus all night (cuz the power trip might continue), and health and blah blah blah...

I hope this whiney crap phase passes soon...

so I get back and dear Precious is in her room with the door closed... the TV and lights are all still on, as usual (I got home this morning and found every light in the house on except their bathroom light and the lights in my room)... but what irks me is the oven is still on and there are cookies on every counter and on top of the oven... can we say dangerous? (wait, did I mention the grease filled frying pan, you know, the one that only gets rinsed out when something else is to be cooked in it, is sitting on the oven too... not to mention that two cups full of bacon grease are sitting right next to it?... I think I need fire insurance)...

I considered walking back out and letting the smoke alarm wake them, but I don't think it would make much difference in changing their habits... and you don't always hurt the ones you love, that's sometimes just a cliche (oh stop laughing with me at me, it's rude)... yeah, and the living room is still full of half unpacked boxes and papers and Pepsi bottles and cleaning supplies and other stuff Rasputin bought, the kitchen stuff is still not put away completely, the kitchen table is still not put together, and it's time for me to take another walk and order some food (awwww, and I was doing so well on my diet for the past two days... somehow I don't think the two-day diet book I was thinking of writing will sell very well... besides the fact that it doesn't work, at least not without surgery, I don't think people would actually buy into a diet where you walk for 48 straight hours without eating)... so obviously moving in with a best friend is not working out as it was hoped, but then, it could be something I ate... or didn't...

so instead I did the parental thing, cautioned about fired hazards, urged more care and safety around the apartment, and ordered Italian... I am going to dive into my eggplant parm now... ah, now that's a sweet smell...

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)