mnvnjnsn's Diary

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Ow. Stop it. Ow.

If I had any sort of creative juices at all, I'd be writing a parody of "I Feel Pretty" called "I feel shitty." I've had that going through my head all day, because I have been feeling like crap all day. But it turns out to be a really long song, and I have no juice for it.

Today's symptoms include headache, backache, anxiety and painful skin.

Yes, my whole body feels like I have a bad sunburn and my clothes feel made of glass shards and burlap.

You would think this would not be conducive to work, and you would be thinking correctly, except I managed to get a few projects finished and, as middle-managers might say, "off my plate." Ah, the run-on sentence. It's the misplaced apostrophe of the tired, punctuation-nazi mind.

I plan on going home soon and drinking. I have found this new liqueur that drinks like candy. Seriously, 1 part this to 1 part club soda, and you've got bubbly, alcoholic Hawaiian Punch. And if that's too weak for you (and often times, it is), then add 1 part mango rum. It's piratey-licious, I tell you what.

Is it a sign of an alcoholic that I feel crappy, and so plan on getting drunk? Yeah, probably. But it's not the mild alcoholism, vicodin addiction and lack of excercise that's killing me.

It's these damn pants.

3:25 p.m. - 2003-09-12


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