Juan…Juan Valdez

I’ve learned a valuable lesson this week. It’s not just the vicodin that makes me slow, it’s the lack of coffee that makes me boring too. It’s Wednesday, vicodin should be completely out of my system, I should be back on my game charming and shocking those around me with my witty observations and my pithy turns-of-phrase.
I’m having these conversations that should be spilling over with witty rejoinders and double entendre and yet all I can really manage is pedestrian observation.
Screw this being healthy bullshit. Coffee tomorrow morning and forever!
Last night I spent 8.5 billion hours emailing pictures from my phone to my computer. Motorola makes software to connect your phone to your computer but it’s only for PC’s, I use Macs both at home and at work. Oddly, I couldn’t think of anyone I saw regularly enough who had a pc and a fast connection and would want to load the software on their computer. So I emailed them. Yay for unlimited pictures sent. If things go well and I decide that I have enough pictures that are 1) interesting, 2) not the dog or 3) David I’ll post something fun.
I have raging PMS right now. FUCK. I hate hate hate that I’m standing there and part of me is furious at something and another part of me is calmly looking at the situation and saying “you know, you wouldn’t get pissed about this any other time”. So to anyone who got in my path today and yesterday, I’m sorry, I’ll return your limbs in a couple days.
I had a dream that I was making out with David while he was reading the bible to me (specifically, the very beginning). I don’t really want to know what this means at all. Good kissing…creation story…kissing…god. Also, in my dream he could both read out loud AND kiss. Talented.
Why do sugar cookies always taste like underbaked glue? Why do I keep eating them?
yo, later
I just went in to edit a grammatical error, went back to read it and realized it was right in the first place. slow slow slow