I got a thing for assholes who tell good stories

I did a google image search and found these pictures of the border wall.



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The crosses represent people who died crossing the border. Muertes means dead. The one with the skull has a list of names and says "and more than 1,000 unidentified migrants".

Just FYI, I don't have time to go back and lock all my past entries, but I'll be friendslocking most subsequent posts.

What should I read next?

I wish it was Christmas.

George died.

He wasn't even sick and he wasn't that old either. I don't really know how old he was exactly, but it would be a stretch to even put him at two.

I was checking the cage before I left for work this morning, and he was in the bottom corner, and he didn't look right, so I touched him and he was cold.

I only even had him for like eight months.

He was awesome.

I am so ridiculously happy to be single for valentines day.

It's really not ridiculous, it makes sense, but no other word describes the insane level of relief that I feel when I think about not being in that relationship.

I think maybe I won't read the last Harry Potter book, so it won't ever be over.

I was dreaming about my job last night, and when I woke up, Penny was sitting by my pillow staring at me. I thought I was still at work, so I asked her if I could help her. She didn't respond. Of course she didn't respond, she's a cat. Didn't click. I asked her if she wanted to maybe buy a domain name? She stared at me some more. I was confused as to why she wasn't responding, and I got this nervous feeling that I was somehow fucking things up. So I looked around and Charlie was sitting on the other side of me, also staring. Then it clicked. I was in bed! These were my cats! They wanted food!

Lame.

The other night I spent 20 minutes trying to explain to an old man what an address bar is. The worst part? I failed! He just wasn't getting it! He wanted to know why he couldn't see his website when he looked it up. Apparently he surfs the internet by typing things into google. I finally gave up, had him type in "submit URL google" and had him submit his site. Oy vey. I still wonder how he set up a website to begin with.

I'm experiencing difficulty dealing with having two jobs and having to resign myself with the fact that there are only so many hours in the day. I mean, I've always had a suspicion that my problem is not that I really have ADD, but that I've just never been able to grasp A) that time is linear and B) that time is finite (at least in terms of how I interact with it). So the recent limitions that I've had on things I want to do vs. things I have to are really cramping my style!

I've really been wanting to meet boys lately, but don't want to go to bars. I can't hear in bars. I can't meet people when my conversational abilty is limited to "what" and "I'm sorry, I still didn't get that". I'm convinced there are secret places where the smart, cool, geeky-but-somehow-socially-ept(?) boys hang out, and I just need the secret password or something.

Why must I work, and why must everything cost money?

PARDON


A piece of burned meat
wears my clothes, speaks
in my voice, dispatches obligations
haltingly, or not at all.
It is tired of trying
to be stouthearted, tired
beyond measure.


We move on to the monoamine
oxidase inhibitors. Day and night
I feel as if I had drunk six cups
of coffee, but the pain stops
abruptly. With the wonder
and bitterness of someone pardoned
for a crime she did not commit
I come back to marriage and friends,
to pink fringed hollyhocks; come back
to my desk, books, and chair.