I'm doing another late night on the computer. I'm tired and pissed off. I'm running things through my head that shouldn't be there. I'm dwelling on bad news, and as I realize, thay are bad to me because I wont leave them alone. Life is full with bad news. It's how we take it that matters. It's that cloud and silver lining thing.
It's bad Joss...It's bad karma. T-minus one day before my fair hearing.
I'm doing other things, like enjoying the police coming into the complex to throw this beliegerant, homeless possibly, man out of the building. What fun. I like it when the blue and whites show up for someone other than me. I got my breakfast and left all my condiments downstairs, and boy, I was just too lazy to go all the way back down to get them. Well, there goes a few thousand calories off breakfast. No big deal. Karma.
And yes, I'm back to calorie counting again, but this time I'm going to try exercise with it. See what a double barreled attack looks like. Am I determined to lose weight this September? You bet. And Dr. A. has plans for my health too. I have some NEW prescriptions, New pills, but he tells me not to call them pills, they are vitamins. A bunch of them for my heart. The heart makes certain enzymes naturally, but after something like Congestive Heart Failure, the heart stops doing it and starts to break down. By introducing vitamins that are enzyme friendly, he's hoping to kickstart the heart to start to repair itself. This is to treat the problem, not the symptoms. If he could get all of the above to happen, hopefully we can switch drugs for vitamins. An ambitious plan but I think do-able.
Paula has been having a good and bad week. Good: one morning I leave to take a piss, yeah, I wanted to share that with you, and as soon as I step out of my room she is down the hall, jumping and waving. "Hey Hobobob!" I turn to look at her. "Hey do you remember THIS guy?" Yes, I remember him, another comedian from the Box of Nuts. Like I care. I don't even want the Box to be mentioned to me, much less want too ever see the characters from there any longer. Yeah, I call out, raising my hand. How the Hell are you. I turn and enter the bathroom. I hope he was in the middle of a long, juicy explanation of life in or after the Box or whatever, because my leaving meant I didn't care.
Now I've seen him around in the mornings and in the nights with her for two days now, and he doesn't seem like he's leaving. Now here's the stickler for me. If you've ever seen my room, you'll realize that I have a full size bed, which means that it's probably wide enough for one and a half people. So let me tell you, if you're having overnight guests, they certainly aren't your sixth grade teacher, or your uncle, unless you like sleeping in chairs. You're going to be in some serious spooning company. Better to think of it like this...they're fucking. Eeewwww!
I'm no looker, but a man as a slob is just a slob. That's why they invented the fucking word if you think about it. When someone says 'slob' you instantly think Man...like Oscar Madison in the Odd Couple. Well, Paula is a slob. There is absolutely nothing sexy about her. She has this annoying voice that can go through steel. She's just not my type, but let's hear it for the girl, Hallelujah! Her sex life is far better than mine.
Well, to make this a story, and not an investi- gation on Paula's love life, to and move on to the bad news: Last night at around nine O'clock, she and one of her crows camp out in front of my door and talk about all of the gossip of the building. Well she tells about her experience with security. She filled out the proper overnight guest form, had it signed by the proper people and filed with the security department in the proper manner. Well, around Midnight, they buzz the room through the intercom telling her that the overnight guest has to go. She screams at them, telling them to check their stupid paperwork, and they say...oh yeah, you're right. Sorry.
These guys down at security. I just wonder where they get these lamebrained morons from. They take the cake. These guys are so precious that I hear them knocking on her door last night to inform her that her overnight had to go...at Two O'clock in the morning! Hot damn! Fucking retards. Gotta love them. She is so exasperated that she can't even scream at them. Let me tell you people, the taste of your own medicine in bitter.
It's not that I have something against Paula...well maybe I do. That bitch and her annoying voice is always yapping to the crows in the hall, all day and night. And she always picks the area to do this right in front of my door! She plays her television too loud and all day and all night. That's right, she never turns that loud bugger off. This raises my annoyance with her.
I can't stop sleeping during the day now. I sleep all morning long, no matter how much I get up and try to function, that means I know that I can get up and go somewhere before 9:00am, but I will be a zombie. But I fucking can't sleep at night. And I really can't bring myself to stay up without nearly fainting from exhaustion. Then tonight I can't go to sleep until, on the average, 4:00am. I have a lot to do today and it is already well past noon. I'm going to work on this damned novel now, see if I can do 500 pages today. That would be good. It means, that in the writing of my entire life, this will be the second largest work that I have ever written. The first being Hegemony, the historical novel that I wrote with my brother. That is my masterpiece.
Well, not to make it too long of a post, I'll end here.
T-minus one day.
Let's just see how the karmic dice roll on this one.
Like I told everyone before. Lets all just sit back and enjoy the fireworks.
HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/09/frankly-scarlet-let-fuck.html
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