contact has been made

On some days I do actually rise up singing. Sometimes I just want to sing from the moment I get up. Today was one of those days–I can’t remember what I was singing, and I don’t think Lola gives a shit if I sing or not as long as I pet her, but it was a good day. On days when I do as Leonard Bernstein says and do indeed sing to my breakfast, I’m more cheerful.

I bought some new fake flowers for the office– the old arrangement was this annoying configuration of twigs spraypainted white and pinecones impaled on sticks, all doused with an abnormally huge amount of purple and silver glitter. Not only was it way wintry, and the vase it was in broken and being held together with packing tape, but it was as fucking ugly as your mom at 2:00 a.m. waiting to be the first one in the government cheese line. So, I bought some nice fake flowers and made a cool arrangement. That brightened my day somewhat, since I didn’t have to look at the heinous abomination of nature that powdered the entire waiting area with sprinkles of dusty glitter and jumbo kosher salt-sized crystals of decorative plastic (like glitter in 3-D!).

Let’s see– I also got to visit with my new shrink. His name is Dr. uh… something really waspy, like Lowery or Wesley or something, and he looks about 17. He seems nice enough and he will give me drugs. That’s all I really want– drugs, or a means to get off the drugs without having to go cold turkey and screwing up my brain and body completely, like I did that time I got fired and lost my health insurance.

I also got my computer hooked back up to my stereo last night (I finally got all the right extensions and adaptors and stuff), and was able to sample some records. Finally! I wrote some reviews for Queasy Listening and thus I feel like I’ve actually accomplished something. Something.