Wednesday, June 23, 2010

At Death's Door

And it’s kind of dusty.

No, I’m only joking. I just have a very annoying cold. It’s a real pain in the ass/head/sinuses and the cough medicine keeps me fairly light-headed. FUN. As a result, I haven’t bothered turning on my computer for the past few days and certainly haven’t been writing. I’ve been reading a lot, though. And also watching lots of Buffy, season 7. Not sure why, but I’ve been feeling the urge to revisit the end days of the Buffyverse.

Also, as is my luck, I am currently one giant bruise. Though this is the time-honoured bullshit excuse, I really am just clumsy. I’ve collided with the couch arm (with my head), my nightstand (with my knee), my bedroom wall (with my elbow), my bedroom door (with my upper arm), Pat’s car door (with my shin), and the top of the stairs (with my toe). I probably have more bruises, but I haven’t bumped any of them so, if they exist, I am unaware of their presence.

Alternatively, I am acutely aware of my hunger, which is seriously ferocious. I know what you’re thinking: “Why the hell are you blogging about it? Go eat something.” Too right you are. Except that I’m a wuss and encountering my family throughout the house causes me endless anxiety. It’s why I spend all my time in the basement. My bedroom’s in the basement, the big TV is in the basement, my bathroom/shower is in the basement. I’m sure you can guess where my DVD collection is. I abhor the upstairs because it always means frequent encounters with my family members. I love them, but I hate being around people. Even the ones I’m related to.

And now that I have just heard the front door closing and my father leaving, it’s time to quit bitching and get some food.

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