I got the above video in my email while sitting here in my usual spot on the couch of gloom and doom. My jasmine tea and water are sitting here, and I'm kicking myself for forgetting to buy saltines at the store yesterday eve. Oh, yes, I remembered the sweet fucking cinnamon graham crackers, but forgot the saltines. I remembered the peanut butter and the canned peaches, but forgot the fucking saltines.
Fuck, I am so nauseous that I had to take my sports bra off because it was putting some pressure on me near my stomach. Then I turned my workout pants into some low riding hipsters. I look like one of those deflated teenagers on the couch in those PSAs about talking to your kids about pot. Funny, now you got to talk to your kids and tell them why you're smoking pot.
Maybe there's something EVIL growing in my stomach. There's pain now. Maybe I accidentally swallowed an alien while in a feeding frenzy. Maybe I don't ever want to see a Dr except for meds. Last time I went for some dumb pain, they eventually took my gall bladder. What's next? Maybe they planted something in there while yanking out the gall bladder. Something alien. Something evil. Maybe an alien/human hybrid. Maybe I should go and have an ultrasound!
Maybe I should just finish my tea, curl up in a ball, and think about the reminder of the end of "True Blood", and say fuck it. There's a "Supernatural" marathon on again on TNT tomorrow. I'm sure I'll be fine by... oh... 3 or 4 today. Maybe I can force myself to get on the treadmill then. I have the DVDs, so no excuse if I feel ok.
At least I got out this morning without freaking out.
Oh, by the way, I'm not having any feelings or moods at all. I'm just existing. Does that make me a zombie? Be sure to aim for the head.