Everyday this week I have woken up with pain in my chest.  Like maybe something wants out…

I alternate between thinking I could really go for a deep tissue massage and thinking that if someone were to touch me I would shit on them, literally.  I need to join a support group, because I’m pretty sure I was raped at LensCrafters.  I bought two pairs of glasses and spent WAY too much money on them.  Oh, and I only have one pair so far.  The others might be ready next week.  I’m not holding my breath, except perhaps to push the burning in my heart a little further down.

I love that my iPod switches from Ill Nino to Charlie Parker seamlessly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

I am getting married in less than two weeks!!!! I am freaking out!  You wouldn’t think it to look at me, but inside I am all screams and terrified eyes.  Speaking of screams and terrified eyes, I think people should be able to register as pedestrians.  I was listening to Mitch Hedberg this morning, particularly his bit that cars should be limited to three honks of the horn a week because people abuse it so regularly.  It got me thinking about the horn and its initial purpose; to alert other cars of your presence.  In conjunction with your blinkers and brake lights, it is part of the car’s “communication system”.  Unfortunately what most people to choose to communicate with it is “You’re an asshole!”  But it serves an actual purpose if, say, someone is backing out of a space and doesn’t see you over their left shoulder.  You tap the horn lightly, a sharp succinct noise sounds and they turn to see you and wave apologetically and thankfully that you were able to avoid a collision.  As pedestrians, we don’t have that.  All we have is terminally white eyes, bellowing the name of our respective creator, and the snapping of bones underfoot.  That’s why I think anyone who walks more than six blocks a day should be able to register as a pedestrian and be issued an airhorn.

Damn, that soapbox is tall.  And disorienting.  I need to sit down a while.

One more week of work until I’m on vacation for two weeks!  Very excited about that.  But what a week it will be.  We just hired a metric assload of new people and I need to make the schedule for the next three weeks before I go, including all the training and subsequent shifts for the newbies, not to mention onboarding everyone and teaching the menu class and all that fun shiznazzle.  I will be beat by the time my vacation starts, which won’t be all that relaxing the first week.  Fun, yes, but not relaxing.  The way it’s planned, each day leads seamlessly and mercilessly into the next until the wedding, and then the morning after I can relax.  Ideally. 

Seriously, how have people done this for hundreds of years?  This is exhausting.  I was in the shower this morning and suddenly remembered “Shit! I should write some fucking vows or something!”  And that’s another thing and please tell me I’m not the only one: I have most of my epiphanies when I am partly or wholly naked.  Whereas most people shower to clean their bodies, I get in the shower to remember shit.

Confession time: I don’t care about college basketball.  Oh, what a relief to say that out loud.

I am increasingly less patient with stupid people as I get older.  Has anyone watched Jerry Springer lately?  Am I the only person who thinks his set looks like a villain’s hideout from the Adam West/Burt Ward Batman series?  With its oversized fan and green steel bars, I keep expecting Caesar Romero to jump out of a corner in full Joker regalia.  It adds an extra level of the absurd to a show that is already outright fucking ridiculous.

Well, I suppose that’s all for today.  Hooray for early morning blogging.  I want sleep.  Or scotch.