Mired

And so today was one of those days when I realize we must all need a nemesis or two (nemesii?) because the universe keeps sending them to me. Really, I don't want them. No, thank you. My life is about to become overpopulated with bad. Yet, I smile and nod and say how lovely and try to remain awesome through it all.

I am still writing every day and this helps, especially because I am pondering the nature of horror with wild scenarios. I also fantasize about becoming a night baker and making bagels for a living. I like bagels. Plus, bagels make people happy. Unless they're crazy and don't like bagels, of course.

I am in that want to disappear kind of mood that is part hormones and part bad freaking day.

I bought some new scissors and two pairs of fishnet stockings because sometimes even the most enlightened need retail therapy. I also bought nectarines, which I really hope don't totally suck. There is something about stockings, scissors and nectarines that suggests femme fatale. No doubt my purchases mean something wicked and symbolic and Freudian. I smashed my finger today and it hurts like mad. The gods are conspiring against me.

I wish somebody would adopt me and give me my own room, a pink bicycle with a banana seat, and an allowance. I am feeling childish.