Yeah, I know I've got nothing of worth to say lately, and I know it. I'm just tired, and maybe a little bored. It's as if I've over-drawn the reserve for my body's capacity to whistand excitement and still function normally the rest of the time. Except the night spent with Mike, the past few nights have been absolute nightmares where I find myself incapable of sleep, feeling so dredfully uncomfortable inside and wishing I could die. I won't, of course, but this must have been the longest bout of depression ever, and it stinks.
I did a completely stupid thing and told Ethan about the whore and my dress and the whole ...thing, because I thought it was funny. I don't really think he wanted to know, come to think of it. Won't he just call me already? Nuts. I hate timezones.
I watched TV for the first time in a long time; Like actually picked out a program and sat down to watch it throughly. It was that cooking show with Jamie Oliver, I like it because it's completely colourful, and the trips to the grocery store on his moped intrigue me. I now know a neat trick oh how to make sure my sponge cake does not stick to the bottom of the cheese-cake tin pans. Plus he's cute and cooks up fantastic recipes with stuff you can find in a moderately stocked kitchen any time of the year.
xoxox
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