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Reality Check?

November 16th, 2008

So I’ve been jabbering on FetLife a LOT lately. I run out of things to do and just… babble. Annnnd I might be pissing people off but I’m at that stage in my life where I just don’t care. I go through phases. One minute I’m praying to be part of the cool kids club and the next I realize the cool kids are missing their brains. And then I don’t care that their brains have fallen out. I just want to be as cool as them!

Ah adolescence. Who’da thunk it would stretch almost to thirty. If I listen to the hours of gibberish my ATC counselors used to spew at me I’d believe it’s all the drugs stunting my emotional growth to that of a twelve year old (when I started doing prescription and street drugs). Or maybe nine, when I started smoking cigarettes. I like to think it’s much deeper than that. Being a teenager was fun, damn it!

We have a future KAP living beneath us and she’s cool as hell. And smart! It’s so rare to find an intelligent female in our neck of the woods. Most of them are more interested in having babies and staying on welfare. And I know that’s a horrible stereotype but if I was interested in backing myself up (which I am… a little) I’d tell you how many of the females I’ve met who’ve flat out told me they did their best to get fired from their jobs because quitting would screw up their section 8 or food stamps. It’s sad, really, that working cramps their style . But it’s home and I love it here. Minus the snow… which, remarkably, we’ve had very little of yet. Knock on wood. Lots and hard.

The sirens are becoming lullabies and the other night I got to listen to a drunken priest talk about his all forgiving God and a daughter that hates him. I sort of felt sorry for him when the women outside smoking with him ridiculed him for falling. But it was all fun and games again when he told them he’d done nothing God wouldn’t forgive him for. He’s managed to avoid the seven deadly sins. So far.

I hope I’m right and there is no hell. Because if there is, when I get there I’ll be met with a red carpet and Satan carrying his worst torture devices. Boy do I have a surprise for him! And I’ll be bootlegging ice water right under his nose.

He’ll probably sentence me to another lifetime on Earth for making fun of him. 

Our birds have lost their damn minds. I’m starting to wonder if we gave them birdy brain damage when we drove them to the new apartment in the U-Haul. They’ve been acting very strange. I’m pretty sure it’s a request to get out but I left their cage open for fifteen minutes by mistake and all they did was sit on the back of the cage and chirp at the open door.

So far we seem to have only lost one fish in the move. I’m pretty happy about that. We’re probably going to lose a few more, though, because we have way too many and a huge plecco in the five gallon tank. But the landlord wants a $250 deposit if we fill the 38 gallon tank and we just don’t have it right now. Who’s ever heard of a pet deposit for fish? We were told he charged a deposit for someone’s washing machine too. Cheap bastard.

I’m at 215 and holding. Master keeps telling me He’s going to start my exercise regime back up but we can’t figure out a good time to do it. He likes to be able to talk to me when He’s at work and on the days He’s not in Albany we go to lunch together or He comes home. Either way it’s a waste of gas and money and we should probably be packing His lunches. But when he goes to Albany it’s impossible because they won’t allow a refrigerator or microwave at the data center. Too much power, I guess.

He said I’ve been really good lately. I blew it away this morning when I woke up on the total wrong side of the bed, though. Not really sure what happened.

I remember at some point last night waking up from a dream and being seriously pissed off. I don’t know why. The dream left my head as soon as I opened my eyes. Master asked what was wrong and I don’t remember what I told Him but it was something along the lines of “Nothing.” I couldn’t see telling Him I was pissed off and didn’t know why. Whether or not it really happened I don’t know because He doesn’t remember it. The next thing I remember dreaming about is laying on the floor and playing with a bunch of kittens and their mother. A white ball of fur in particular. She was beautiful.

I guess that’s enough gibberish for one day. Things are going well. I’m starting to feel comfortable in my own skin again and that’s a plus. Now if only Master could stop working long enough for us to go do something. Stupid job. Anyone looking to hire a computer savy, reality bound dude with a built in, wage free secretary for $50k a year? Have whips, will travel! *grin*

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