It's Cold as a Tomb, and It's Dark in Your Room

I don't really know if I have the time to do it all justice.

In essence, the emotional roller coaster of this week has certainly convinced me that up has become down, right-wrong, and black is the new black.

What?

Exactly.

Marina came in a whirlwind dayish trip to the city. I don't know how I'd feel about the firm having me fly up for two seconds. But then again, they'd never entrust me with stuff like that. I'm like the wayward stepchild here.

Robert and Lee tease me mercilessly about it, too.

Oh yeah. Lee's back. She snuck up on me when I was writing in LiveJournal and scared the shit out of me.

"I wanted to surprise you."

"By killing me? Yup, that'd do it."

"You look good [I have finally managed to find the motivation to wear makeup again]."

"Thanks. You look well-rested."

Ha ha. That's funny because she had mono. Get it? Awww, fuck it. Nevermind. But it's nice to have her back.

But I digress. This should be nothing new to those of you who read this on a regular basis. My blog is like the Mad Hatter's Tea Party. Minus the tea. And the hats. So I guess that just leaves mad.

Sounds about right, I guess.

I've decided to give up on Office Crush. Not because he has a girlfriend, though. Let's not get all altruistic or anything. You should know me better than that. More to do with the fact that I realized I just desperately wanted to cling to something other than my current feelings. But it would just make me crazy in a different way. And wouldn't solve anything. And we all know that booze is the answer to ALL problems.

I kid, I kid. Everything in moderation, kids.

I had a horrible scare the other day. Things had been pretty shitty. Work was so stressful it made my stomach curl up and turn into a kitten. A very stressed kitten. I don't even understand that image myself, but generally I write these things as they come. Travis apparently has to go. We're in month 2 and have yet to see rent. Or bills.

And then the kicker came when Devon called. Apparently, there's some porn charges racked up on our cable bill. Ordered at 6:30 in the morning. Honestly, people. The name of my damn blog has porn in the title, so this comes from no place of judgement. But damn, man. 6? It's a little early to be whacking off in our living room.

And he did it on the first. Perfectly aware that he wouldn't be able to make rent, he thought buying porn would be the way to start the day off right.

Grr. Argh. I don't want to have to pay for someone else's porn habit.

I decide not to answer my phone. I miss a call on my BlackBerry.

It's the Lady Doctor. Tests results are in--Please call back.

And....

Cue Panic Attack. More like PANIC ATTACK!

This has been my worst fear all along. And then they kept telling me the doctor was unavailable. It was getting near 5 and we all know doctors don't stick around, so I was facing the prospect of having to sleep on such information.

I was crying a little. Which I hate doing. But I could barely keep it together. Luckily, one of the temp attorneys found leaving a message like that and not talking to me to be unacceptable, so she called the doctor herself. She pretended to be my mother (I guess because you accept bitchiness when it comes to your brood, not your coworkers) and we get some answers.

And it's nothing. A lady problem most common. One antibiotic and I'm good as new.

The best part is that it does not make me have to feel like the DISEASE SPREADING WHORE and have to make calls or, I don't know, call a band meeting.

I go to meet Spring to celebrate. And just to hang out. I haven't seen her in awhile. The girl is an onion. And I don't mean that if you cut her, the fumes will make you cry (though they might). But she constantly surprises me. I love that. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've written that about her.

People thinks she's hard. They're wrong. But she doesn't try to stop anyone from feeling that way about her. But you cannot be heartless and love They Might Be Giants. A big heart and soul are required to enjoy the genius that is the album Flood. It's just the way it is.

Damn. There's more stuff, but I'm tapped out.

Goodnight, Gracie.