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Thursday, April 29, 2004

So I have been vaguely dissatisfied recently. Depressed even.

I've tried sleeping more. I still can't sleep past my five nightly hours. I've strengthened the potency of my sleeping pills. On other nights, I've tried the rum cure.

Strenuous running doesn't help. I don't notice the trees on forest walks. I don't notice faces anymore. A friend said I walked into him, looked at him, and had no idea he was there. Dancing in the dark just makes me think of grenades and guerilla warfare.

A mini shopping spree at Value Village couldn't raise my spirits (today's treasures: sparkly baby blue summer sweater, Japanese goldfish tank top, black rodeo tanktop, brown falling star top, cool cut 60s tanktop, Pisces t-shirt). My new car made me slightly elated. But gas prices made me miserable. So I parked it.

I don't have any phone cards around to call Beth. There is no one else to call. I should be working on my press release or the marketing strategy. I should be loading my clothes into the washing machine. I should buy food. We don't have anything to eat.

The Comtesse DeSpair's Morbid Mirth Du Jour:

Ireland's worst plane disaster struck today when a two-seater plane crashed into a cemetery.

Irish rescue workers have recovered 828 bodies.

Digging continues...


didn't help much.

I need decapitated kittens or something.

The Celebrity Morgue made me wistful.

Do I wish I were dead? Should I move to Fallujah?

There is only one thing that can make me happy.

Lesbians on Ecstasy.

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