Oh, lesbian drama. The girl I'm dating's ex just friend-requested me on Facebook. I've never met her. And have no intention of accepting, but good grief.

By age 5 I didn't have a bedtime because before my parents got to the point of thinking "isn't it time for her to go to bed" i'd just...get tired and go to bed. I also got up without an alarm and would pour myself cereal into a bowl and then play/read/watch TV until my parents got up. I'm a little shocked they didn't have more kids after me. I was very good at that until the insomnia set in around puberty.

My parents understood that I would eat more breakfast if I made it myself, and food I didn't want kinda got puked back up (as is food I did want---inhaling/shovelling not the best solutions) at best, and stuck under my bed at worst. But what I did eat was Milo and hard dough bread (cereal was an infant concept, and fruit for breakfast just weird once you'd had your half grapefruit). It took us a while to find a breakfast that didn't involve cooking fish. Which is a damned shame. I like fish. To feed unwanted food to the dogs we had to fling it out the windows (try that with louvres, subtly) and if they got fed near the same time as us, their food was tastier (all our leftovers cooked up in cornmeal porridge--these dogs wouldn't look at commercial dogfood). At least one hot meal a day, fuckers!

Cass, I'm sorry you have my insomnia. I'm not sleeping much, but it's remarkably unstressful, and if I can make it through the start of the week, I think it won't ruin two like last time--this week is so much more productive and tolerable than last. I think I scared my boss by yelling "firing on all cylinders!" and running out of the kitchen.

I'm up now because I finally unblocked my left ear! She's back! But now it's clear that either or both of these is true: I have mono super hearing or my right ear should probably get some pre-apocalyptic loving. I feel like tipping over the other way.

I think I survived today at work by wearing ruffles over my increasingly large boobs (why apologise?), a skirt with underskirts, and the purple Jimmy Choo loafers--they are nutso comfortable, they look like nothing else in my closet (which is an issue for me--I can't work out which heels to give away because three pairs look so similar...), and they make me feel spry. Perhaps I'm young to be spry, but I cut 30 seconds off my downstairs jaunt today, all fuelled by the purple Choo and fear of my calendar. Mostly choo.

All those noises on my left. I will never sleep.

Back in the office for a day. Finally, something feels normal (although since I'm living out of the house of friends, still weird). I've got an apartment in the works - it will be significantly farther away from Boston (where I work) and more than double my morning commute time. Oh well, the place was available, and I know the unit is nice (a friend moved to PA and was getting his condo in MA ready for sale, so he'll just do it as a lease instead) and right now I can't deal with packing AND living out of friends' AND apartment hunt all at the same time. I just don't have the spoons for that.

Most painful loss so far? The first 40 or so issues of Sandman from its original run got water damaged. It hurt to throw those on the refuse pile, I tell you what.

Packing is going WAY slower than I thought it would, but that is probably because sorting through what was and wasn't salvagable took two full days in the apartment rather than one. Won't get any done today, but I needed a break from the apartment.

Most painful loss so far? The first 40 or so issues of Sandman from its original run got water damaged. It hurt to throw those on the refuse pile, I tell you what.

Oh, OUCH, Frank!

My DH made an aghast face when he read that...

I'm glad you're moving forward, Frank! Currently I'm reading about the Blitz in London and elsewhere and although I kinda knew about the extent of the damage... I didn't really. Makes some of the recent disasters I've participated in seem more handleable.

Oh Frank, I'm sorry. Moving is usually a drag but in unpleasant circsumstances it's the worst.

I got dragged to a principal's meeting (NOT a principal nor is it my goal) and I said two things that offended the principals. It's the second time this week that, in exasperation, I told it like it was to higher level district staff. I need a shock collar, like a dog, for meetings so that whenever I begin to speak I get zapped and I shut up.

That's so hard, Frank. I'm glad you don't have to worry about looking for a new place for a bit. Paying movers to do some of the packing for you is worth it, imo.

Frank, I'm glad you have a place, and I hope you get everything there soon.

Ugg, Kat. My boss at my last job would sometimes look at me and say, "Well?" because of my habit of describing the elephant in the room.

Paying movers is money well-spent towards mental health, I say!