This and that, this and that. My heart's being a punk, what else is new? Rode the recumbent for 40 minutes anyway. Even though doing so scares the daylights out of me, I don't think it makes much of a difference. If I die, I'll die naked, sprawled out on the floor next to my fancy-assed murder machine. Jim Fixx indeed.
I feel so wrong lately. Edgy, nervous, sad. I buy myself one new outfit in three years, and I feel guilty for it. No, don't look around me for the answer. It's not there. It's inside me. In that thwacking, idiot heart of mine. The words "I don't deserve it" actually passed my lips. What the hell is that all about?
I want. I want a tablet-geegaw. You know, something to fiddle with while I ride the recumbent that may slay me. I use my cell phone, but the display is small and my eyes are worsening. Makes for a whopper headache. Now all I have to do is figure out how to justify a 300 dollar toy when I can't find it in me to feel I deserve new clothes. Dunno.
Planned Parenthood wants to feature me in some advertising thing. Not going to be easy, considering I'm a photo-phobe with one decent outfit that hasn't arrived yet and may not fit. Blah. Seems there's pressure from all sides, doesn't it? Shut up, PP, stop stressing me. I gave you a photo, I gave you my words, you can't have any more of me. I know, that makes me a selfish pile of something, but you know, I can't. That's all. I can barely make my way to a dinner party without collapsing from sheer nervousness. Don't ask me to go on national television. Not happening.
Thinking maybe working out when the heart's messing up does make a difference. Hate this, so sick of it. Seems to get a little worse every month, a little more intense, a little longer lasting, a little less time between bouts. Not good.
I wonder how much the current political climate has to do with my heart being such a disaster? I'm stressed and angry all the time. So tired of rude, stupid people who don't care about other human beings. Who think poor people deserve it, that women should be chaste until marriage, and then stay home playing baby-making machine. People who glorify oppressive, occupying governments and vilify entire races based on the desperate actions of a few. People who think that the answer to all our problems is smacking immigrants and cutting funding to aid programs.
Oh, and the environmental causes. Let's not forget to slash the programs meant to keep our air and water safe and clean.
I'll proof-read this later. I don't feel like it right now. I need out of this state, out of this mindset, and maybe, just maybe, out of this world. No, not like that.
I feel so wrong lately. Edgy, nervous, sad. I buy myself one new outfit in three years, and I feel guilty for it. No, don't look around me for the answer. It's not there. It's inside me. In that thwacking, idiot heart of mine. The words "I don't deserve it" actually passed my lips. What the hell is that all about?
I want. I want a tablet-geegaw. You know, something to fiddle with while I ride the recumbent that may slay me. I use my cell phone, but the display is small and my eyes are worsening. Makes for a whopper headache. Now all I have to do is figure out how to justify a 300 dollar toy when I can't find it in me to feel I deserve new clothes. Dunno.
Planned Parenthood wants to feature me in some advertising thing. Not going to be easy, considering I'm a photo-phobe with one decent outfit that hasn't arrived yet and may not fit. Blah. Seems there's pressure from all sides, doesn't it? Shut up, PP, stop stressing me. I gave you a photo, I gave you my words, you can't have any more of me. I know, that makes me a selfish pile of something, but you know, I can't. That's all. I can barely make my way to a dinner party without collapsing from sheer nervousness. Don't ask me to go on national television. Not happening.
Thinking maybe working out when the heart's messing up does make a difference. Hate this, so sick of it. Seems to get a little worse every month, a little more intense, a little longer lasting, a little less time between bouts. Not good.
I wonder how much the current political climate has to do with my heart being such a disaster? I'm stressed and angry all the time. So tired of rude, stupid people who don't care about other human beings. Who think poor people deserve it, that women should be chaste until marriage, and then stay home playing baby-making machine. People who glorify oppressive, occupying governments and vilify entire races based on the desperate actions of a few. People who think that the answer to all our problems is smacking immigrants and cutting funding to aid programs.
Oh, and the environmental causes. Let's not forget to slash the programs meant to keep our air and water safe and clean.
I'll proof-read this later. I don't feel like it right now. I need out of this state, out of this mindset, and maybe, just maybe, out of this world. No, not like that.
