Sticky wads of BAD!

Be forewarned, this is my brain unloading what's bothering me... Again. I wonder if I ever say anything else? Like, anything INTERESTING? Eh, probably not.

Well, it is my blog. I use it to, like, vent and stuff. You know, the sort of thing you can't throw your head back and scream because of? Or the sort of thing that nobody around you wants to talk about? This is where I put it. Don't like it? Stop reading.

I try not to be petty. But I do try to say when something hurts me. Not saying anything hasn't really gone all that well, before.

When I find I've hurt somebody, I pull away. I'm afraid to do more damage. What happens when they pull away, too? Do we just stop talking and call that the end of it? That sounds like kind of a lose-lose situation.

When a book is complicated enough to make my head almost hurt, but I still love it, does that make me a literary masochist? Or is literary masochism defined as reading something that you consider to be crap of your own free will? ~cough~ERAGON~cough~

I regularly have fantasies about quitting Wal-Mart. Does this mean I need a change? Then again, is it really wise to go courting a change when I've got about four months until what's probably the next one?

A week ago I couldn't sleep. This week, I slept entirely too much, and still felt exhausted. Tonight, I can't sleep. What the hell is this?

I think my step-dad is working himself to death. I think my youngest brother's fiance is getting cold feet. I know for a fact my mother's nuts. The middle brother is getting a free iguana. She comes with a cage and climbing branches, even. More weirdness.

My book had better end the way I want it to. So help me, if I don't like the ending, I'll throw it across the room. After I've thrown it across the room, I'll walk over, pick it up, and chuck it out the window. Once it's lying in the driveway, I'll get into my car and run over it a few times. I might get out and spit on it for good measure.

Ye gods, I wish I had more money.

It's been almost a month since the cops told him to leave me alone, and I still feel like my ex is going to show up out of nowhere and try to beat on me or something. Am I screwed in the head?

I just learned the coolest phrase! "Bad Buddhist! No Nirvana!"

May the nonspecific deity or lack thereof of your choice bless your favorite social/legal institution, and good night... Crap. Morning. Good morning.