Last night was relatively uneventful given the absolute madness of the four days preceding it. I don't even want to get started on last weekend. I'm tired enough already without reliving that nightmare.

So, right, last night. The highlights of the evening were picking the bits of crayola and raw hide out of my dog's teeth and then watching horrible television with a pint of Ben & Jerry's. Yes, my life has teetered into complete pathos. I don't even like ice cream. I'm just a hop, skip, and a jump away from spending every Friday night at the Bingo hall.

Nomatter how much I explain to my adventurous side that I really needed to relax last night due to the fact that today will be the first of three consecutive 16-hour workdays, nothing can excuse that sort of behavior. I feel dirty or something. Oh, and what's with the Crispy Creme donuts at every frigging gas station that I go to these days? They're everywhere!

Anyway, in a weak attempt to make myself somewhat resemble the crazy girl I used to be...I wore my knee high black boots to work today. They make my soul a little calmer. Only now I have Everclear playing over and over in my head...

"I am still living with your ghost,
lonely and dreaming of the West Coast.
I don't want to be your down time,
I don't want to be your stupid game.
With MY BIG BLACK BOOTS and an old suitcase..."

Yeah, so, um...this is my life. Someone please, save me from it.

I suppose things could be worse. Oh, I also talked to Jeff the other night. It's strange to think that he is the only person that I talk to on a semi-regular basis that knew me B.S. (Before Sam...which was pretty much bullshit).

Side note: Why do people use that expression so often? Bullshit. Why not cowshit? Horseshit? Goatshit? Why bulls? Is their feces particularly disgusting? Isn't it all rather unappetizing? Any thoughts, anyone?

Anway, back to Jeff, things are still pretty cloudy in that corner of my universe. Can't quite understand what the hell is going on with that one. Don't know if I really care, either. I'll spare anyone who happens to read this entry with the intimate details...but take my word for it, things just don't make sense between the two of us. I don't want anything from him, which is even stranger. I've never had a friendship or relationship (or whatever the hell you call what it is we're doing) without any expectations whatsoever. It's liberating and, at the same time, a little frightening.

I think I'd rather face the death penalty than deal with these next three days. 48 hours of work in three days. I feel like I'm going to be sick.

Please, please, Jessica, go into labor. Tonight. Or tomorrow morning. Please get me out of work. I'm praying for it....