We Live on Front Porches

We really do. Sometimes back ones, as well. But that's just what we do.

Good news. The return button works again.

Once, many years (two) ago, I wrote an entry on the loss of my cellular device at the time, commonly known as Norbert. Norbert was a good phone. Ghetto as hell, but he worked. Usually. Where he went that day was unknown until only a few hours ago, when he was discovered in the car of Dan Galmo. Amazing, isn't it? After all these years, my poor cell phone was found in his car. I find it amusing. There's nothing really to be done at this point about it. Except rub it into my parents' faces that Norbert was not stolen, but rather misplaced. Which means that though I have had five phones, now only one of the five was actually lost forever. To a crackwhore in Cleveland. Though I am just waiting for the police to call or something and be like... um... yeah we brought some woman in for prostitution... she had your phone. So you can like, have it back. That would make my day if that actually happened.

I woke up sick again, though just managed to eat some veggie burgers. I love veggie burgers. They are so good. Yummy in my tummy.

Clearly, there's not much to write about. It's the same thing everyday. Work. Hanging out on people's porches. Internet. Sleep. But the sleep part usually lasts for maybe an hour a day. I was flipping through my horoscope and the wellness one said, "be cautious of your emotional state, and don't let it affect your sleep." Ooooops. I suck at that. I'm super emo, though honestly, sitting at home watching some Jimmy Neutron movie cheered me up significantly. I just wish I didn't have to work tonight. In two hours. Errg. I can only hope I'm set free early, but it looks doubtful at best.

You know, I'm not clear on why I went back to writing in this. No one ever actually reads it. Maybe it just makes me feel better to write in it. These days I feel like I don't have any friends left to rely on or to share stuff with. Which is not to say I don't have friends- I'm not that pathetic- but I just don't have ones that I feel trusting of. There are two people I always know I can share with, and one of them is 5,000 miles away in the heart of the Middle East and the other has her own problems and doesn't need mine. I really don't like talking to people about whatever's bothering me (which, right now, I'm not entirely sure what it is) but sometimes it's the only way to feel better. Maybe if I could just find someone to talk to I wouldn't be so sick. I have a constant pit in my stomach, a constant feeling of nausea. (and a complete inability to spell, forgive me) I think I'm not really sick physically, but so emotionally sick that it manifests itself in my physical well-being. I am not a stable person, am I? I only wish I was. I wish I was a lot of things. Most notably, not myself.

So I guess that's why I dump on this bloge. Ironic, perhaps, as it is technically accesable (okay, eff spelling, seriously) to the whole internet yet no one ever looks at it. I don't blame them. I wouldn't. But it's here, just waiting in case one day someone cares.