I love the line ” … when i need a drug in me … to bring out the thug in me … ” I just laugh. I picture Martin with his pants slung low, his gat tucked into his pants … his beanie on. Ooh how it amuses me.
It looks like (since I forgot music) I’ll be listening to Violator all day. Give me a chance to memorize the lyrics flawlessly.
Today’s ok so far. I left my straightening iron on as I was leaving the house late. I got to the gate and almost around the corner before I remembered and ran back home to turn it off. As I’m coming back, I see the bus coming. So I dodge traffic and run to the stop again this morning but this time with my Hello Kitty wallet in hand. The driver joked with me before I sat down … huffing and puffing wildly. (Out of shape … heh.)
The pluses today are:
- I feel ok today though my right eye is still hella twitchy
- My head doesn’t feel too bad but I grabbed headache medicine just in case
- My eyes aren’t totally swimmy … just a little big
- My spirits are a little higher today than usual
Let’s hope I can make today … a good day vs. whining like a bitch because I stubbed my toe. *whine whine whine*
Maybe I could just kidnap Martin Gore and make him write me a love song for Valentine’s Day. That’d be great. No one has written me any poetry/music … well except for two boys … Ben and Steven (how do I remember this) from 1st grade. They both wrote me love notes and competed for my love when we were little. I had such a crush on them. I think they were just playing with my mind though because no boys liked me at all until I was at least 15 and those were more like lecherous old men. *shudder* I don’t think I started to attract boys my age until I was … at least 19 maybe? Eeek.
I was having some rather odd and bleak thoughts on the way to work but we’ll banish those today. Instead, happy Ash Wednesday (and the beginning of Lent). I’m not a Catholic (nor do I adhere to many usual Christian celebrations … eh) but it’s … note worthy I suppose if you’re into that. I remember some one saying no fish/meat for what … 40 days? I say … good.
I’m done. I’m spent. Time to freeze (they run the fan down here and it’s chilly enough to at least see your breath outside). I hate freezing at work. Gah.