It's one of those mornings, I really don't want to go to work. It has been 8 months after all, but I'm paranoid about playing hooky at this place. Way I see it, I am entitled to all my paid sick days, so I should take them. Plus, when I'm voluntold to be the poster child for my work place, I should get mad props. All it took was a joint to make up my mind. Work smart, not hard!

I feel a moment of reaping simple pleasures today on my day off instead of being an energy drain.

To the people who had a bit of a fright the other night and reported gunshots, thanks. It made for an interesting night, at least. It was to my great satisfaction to tell nothing, but the truth, but you need not know I was the perpetrator. Ditch pigs will always be ditch pigs, after all. And the one time of year, I can get away with dressing like I normally wouldn't, I feel nothing, but...

I just don't have fun anymore, unless -sad to say- I'm on copious amounts of hallucinogens, since I'm not big on drinking. I did have the Kahlua White Russian, quite scrumptious I must say, but even so... Where were my drugs when I needed them most? I usually join in on the festivities of All Hallow's Eve, but I just haven't been much of a social butterfly this past year. There's an emptiness, opening up, consuming more of myself each day and I need to find some other void to fill the emptiness.

I'm glad I spent some time with two of my bestest, Wickens and MacKinnon though.

Restless nights leave me no other choice, but to write about it. Can't sleep and I've got work in about 4 hours. I've had pretty strange sleeping patterns lately, where I sleep after work, which doesn't make any sense if you ask me. Probably just my biologically clock readjusting itself. I also told myself it was because I didn't have much to smoke, but now that I just did, I kinda feel hazy headed. Time to count sheep. (pssst! You know what I really count though? This can sound wrong in so many ways. I count:)

♪ One little, two little, three little Indians
Four little, five little, six little Indians,
Seven little, eight little, nine little Indians
Ten little Indian boys...

Ten little, nine little, eight little Indians
Seven little, six little, five little Indians
Four little, three little, two little Indians
One little Indian boy ♪

It usually helps or at least bores me to death, I end up falling asleep before I get to the last Indian. Wow, I'm surprised I'm even coherent to type or I'm even making jokes like that. Oh well, I'm sick of your insecurities. Stop being sensitive and grow a sense of humour or balls, both even, whichever suits. Anyway time to count down Indianzzz...

I tumble and stumble over words
That will never be heard
People and what they have said
Things to never be read
Lasting thoughts that come and go
Showing what you want others to know
Whatever it is I choose to post
Whether the topics are worthy of boast
After all, I am the host
Of my own life sent
Through the internet
These are my life fragments
And they are meant to be kept

September did not exist.
The rest of the year should be written off.

There's no place like home.

Now that I'm here, I can really see the contrast between myself and Californians. I feel no one really understands the lingo I'm using and everyone points out how I say "eh" and "about."

Remind me not to ever try liquid cocaine again. Not exactly how I wanted my first night to end up here puking my ass off and whatnot. But good times 'cause I got my share of the bargain and that was D-O-P-E, which is why I agreed to have a shot of this liquid cocaine. Yes, I actually fucking found some dope. Hippy-fucking-YAY! Little did I know, proof 151 and Jager and Rumplemens (sp) were the ingredients and mixed with Erynn equals regurgitation.

So I didn't even own a bathing suit, but after a very painful process searching for the one with my cousin, Jade, I finally have not just one, but two, so there goes my funds for fun here. God damn, I suck, but not as much as you 'cause you're not here where I'm at. Now this is a fucking summer, so suck on dem apples Nova Scotia!

Well, it's time to hit the beach, bitches.

Truth be told, I miss him...despite what had happened between us. I miss what we had so much. That undivided attention to one another. The partnership that draws and molds two into unison. The companionship...

Why is it now that these feelings fester inside like this? With time, I can only hope I can trust again. But for now, I'll have to get comfortable with whatever trials await and allow myself time to heal.

So with my new clan of seamonkeys being a week and day old, I decided to clean out my seamonkey tank today. I poured them into a coffee mug, for lack of jars and filtered the tank water through a paper towel. It seemed to catch some of the dust in the water and I stress some. The seamonkeys seemed to enjoy the ride when I sucked them through the tube and back into their tank. They're more active than ever, but it could be because I killed some of their fellow monkey friends. I tried to be as careful as I could, but I think I might have squished one or two transferring them back into their tank with the tube.

I hope my motto doesn't become setting my standards low, so I'm never disappointed, but it's starting to get desperate here. Seems like the same old song and dance. This summer has been pretty depressing, I must say what with the weather acting up, but 17 days and it'll be Californication. ;) (hehe thanks Nicole)

What smokes poles is I was really banking on this paycheck for this trip and let's just say I made more by working overtime on the weekend than stressing my ass off of selling optional extras on car insurance for an entire month. Pfft...nonetheless, this is gonna rule.

In conclusion, Rubix Cube will be the death of me.