April 19, 2012
I'm pretty sure the world can still go to Hell. If I piss and moan any more than I have the past 4 days, I will probably mysteriously disappear in the middle of the night. I'm just letting you all know in advance that if that happens, it's the dog's fault. That little bitch ass old lady has been looking to get rid of me for a couple years now.
Didn't work out today. No running. No yoga. No nothing. Really. Nothing. As a matter of shameful fact, I went back to bed at 10:00 this morning. Dead. Fucking. Serious.
I totally don't care about stuff anymore. Just. Don't. Care. People suck. Food sucks. Being awake sucks. Sleeping sucks. The TV sucks. My job sucks. My ceiling fan sucks. (looking around the living room for other stuff that sucks)..... the Star Wars coffee mug with leftover candy canes from Christmas that lives in perpetuity on the end table next to the couch... SUCKS.
FEEL. MY. PAIN.
OH! And you know what's even worse?
I get a phone call this afternoon from some bitch ass receptionist at my doctor's office, right. And she says,
"Hi Mrs. Davis! This is (bitch ass receptionist) at Clark Clinic and our records show that you are due for a pap smear. Can we go ahead and schedule that for you today?"
OH. MY. SWEET. BABY. JESUS.
Of course. I wish I could say I said some wicked awesome shit that sent her running home to cry into her pillow. But alas, no. All I said was, "Yeah May 1 is fine, whatever. Yeah. 8:50 am is fine, whatever."
And then Jake goes, "what's a pap smear?"
And I go, "it's a coochie exam. Where the doctor cranks your coochie open with a coochie cranker and fishes around in there and stuff."
And Jake's all, "Grooooosssss!!!!"
So anyway. Yeah. Such is my day. Day 4. Without nicotine. I woke up this morning choking on a phlegm ball. Seriously. It was a huge wad of phlegm sitting in the back of my throat. I hacked it up and almost fell off the bed. All the websites and junk say it's my body "cleaning out the toxins."
Fuck my body. Fuck the toxins.