a world of crushing lows and swaggering highs

My tongue hurts. I feel sick. I have just had to lick-seal almost 40 envelopes ~ invitations for the work Christmas party. Why oh why can't stationery companies make decorative christmas envelopes that SELF-SEAL?! Oh that glue is festy stuff.

I forgot to pay my rent. That was very foolish. In all the excitement, I had neglected to notice that we were beyond the 20th of the month. I realised this morning. "FUCK!" I said. I have paid it now. I rang the real-estate lady to explain, and it's all going to be fine. But I still feel like a nork.

I'm sick of being single. No, scratch that. To be much more accurate: I'm sick of being sick of being single. I wish I could get over the urge to find someone to hold. I wish it was possible to override the basic human desire for love and affection. I wish I could be happy to live and die alone, in the company of wonderful friends & family. Damn hormnones. Damn emotions. Damn guys.

But wait... just when you think you may have paper-lacerated your tongue, when you realise you'll never be a financially responsible adult, when you want to to wail to the heavens that it all SUCKS... the inherent good in this wonky wacky universe becomes apparent, when Madame Moodles discovers this:

It's a Flying Spaghetti Monster dildo-cosy. Because everyone wants to store their sex-toys inside a hand-knitted replica of their favourite all-powerful pasta-&-meatballs deity! (by the way, for the sake of Mu's dignity, I must emphatically point out that it is not her dildo, nor her dildo-cosy - she found the picture on the net) Bless.

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