I warn you: this WILL be rambly and disconnected.
I’m passing time while the plumber repairs the kitchen sink. Yesterday he repaired the bathroom sink. It turns out it’s the kitchen which has been leaking for more years than we’ve had this place (haha?) so the place smells of rotted wood. It’s a really good thing this is happening in sunny CA, because if this were happening in chilly PA where I couldn’t open all the windows to air things out without being too cold right now, I’d be really sad.
I would like to be working on art-stuff like a good, productive person, but I have come upon a stumbling block. See, I use photo editing tools in quite a few steps of my work. This is a problem, because I currently have no photo editing software. I can’t afford it, and while everyone and their momma has told me I can download it for free, well, that’s never worked for me. I’ve tried, it has failed. I thought I had finally found a combination of a couple free sites that (their powers combined!) would solve my issues, but the most important of the two has disappeared. So. No work for me. Still. Ugh.
So instead, I’ve begun writing down an official 2009 resolutions/to do list. More on that later, possibly/probably.
I’ve been having such dissettling dreams of late. The other night that girl who stalked me came ’round again, and wanted to kill me again, except that this time it was worse, because she had gained the power of logic, making her even more terrifying. (Yes, she is a real person. A real and crazy person.) Last night the man I loved and I happened to be overnight guests in some cool-ass dorm suite. I thought we might end up casually sharing the same couch-bed, but it didn’t happen, and the next day his ex showed up acting like his current, and I had to pretend I felt nothing special for him and oh, it was awful to see them together and pretend I was ok with it.
I have let some bill go unpaid. I don’t know what it is, which is a shame, because now it appears that I have someone from Reservoir Dogs calling me up at obscene hours of the morning. Or rather, some recorded lackey of a Mr. White is calling me about an important business matter, and I’m just entirely perplexed. I haven’t yet found out what this is about, because I’m not really good with phone calls when I’m sleeping.
I’ve started using a well-advertised acne control kit, because I’ve been breaking out like a 15 year old, and it’s driving me nuts. I suspect it has a lot to do with emotional stress, but having all these spots isn’t reducing that stress any. Since all the girls in the testimonials look to be about 15, I figure it should work. If I update a lot about my zits, forgive smack me.
Ramble ramble ramble. Better entry promised for later. The End.