So I've been pulling hairs out of my mouth since Sunday morning.
Gross, I know, but also strange because I haven't the slightest idea where it's all coming from.
Maybe some supermodel is sneaking into my bedroom and having her way with me, or maybe the cat hair in my house has developed sentience and is trying to kill me.
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I slept for 10 hours Sunday evening. Now I probably won't sleep again until Wednesday or so, because I've already used up half my weekly sleep quota.
It would be nice if sleep worked that way. I'd get all of my sleep out of the way on Monday and Tuesday then I'd stay awake for the rest of the week. Somebody should look into why we can't do this.
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I've been feeling a lot lately like this journal needs to come to an end. I nearly deleted it Sunday morning but if I'd done it then it would have been out of anger and that's not a very good reason to do anything.
I really don't like being angry at people that have never been anything but nice to me.
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It looks like I'll be going to St. Louis for my Easter trip this year. That's assuming that I remember to get the oil changed in my truck this coming weekend.
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I'm pretty sure that I'm in denial. There is just no way that I can be okay with this. I need to tie a string around my finger or something to remind me that I'll probably die at any moment.
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Polly's Freeze reopened this past Thursday, but I haven't made it over there yet. Hopefully this weekend I'll go there for lunch.
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I was thinking about how, at the end of Titanic, that chick kept saying "Come back!" over and over and over to get the lifeboats to return. That was so sad. Part of me still hopes for rescue. That's even sadder because I don't think it's going to happen for me.
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I'm craving White Castles right now. I think I'll go. They have breakfast thingies too. Maybe I'll get some of those.
