The good news is I don't have Monkey Pox. The bad news is I’m still not interested in anything unless it's something I can't have and if it becomes gettable I don't want it anymore.
For example (par exemple for those of you who are French-speaking, because I cater to all here), I would really like to have Michael Vartan & Olivier Martinez as my love slaves ánd a monkey (but not as a love slave, more like a laundry and foot rubbing slave), but if you were to say, give me those tomorrow (you're too kind!), I would no doubt lose interest. Is this some sort of psychotic disorder, or am I just being a 'typical woman' as y mailman likes to say (which I , of course, deeply resent, being the borderline feminist that I am) ? And if so, why do I still think this all relates back to that summer I ate nothing but peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?
Either way, this life-threatening case of Wanting What I Can't Have is worse than originally diagnosed. I'm like a walking, talking Enrique Iglesias song, that's how sad and pathetic I am.
Antibiotics won't help, Nyquil won't help, and I never thought I would say this, but even Vicks Vapo Rub won't help. The doctors are giving me 6-8 weeks to GET A GRIP, but I'm thinking they're just being optimistic. Now is not the time for optimism, however. Now is also not the time to read a whole mind numbing ("Find Out What Type Of Sexy You Are!" or "7 Strange Ideas Guys Have About Sex!") issue of Cosmopolitan (although I almost enjoyed "15 Times To Be A Bitch!") OR eat meals consisting entirely of gummi (gummi bears, gummi worms, gummi fish) OR try to teach my cats, (all 5 orphans are well alive & kicking & scratching & hissing…) how to attack on command (stupid cats, they're lucky I don't send them to a cat sweatshop in Cambodia with Minnie Driver) OR re-record my outgoing answering machine message because no one else will think singing a medley of The Strokes' "You Talk Way Too Much" and The White Stripes' "There's No Home For You Here" as the message is as funny or brilliant as I do.
I'm in such a sucktabulous mood that I can't even muster up the strength to tell you in detail (I'm all about details, you know) how I found the new best shampoo ever and how I almost orgasmed while washing, rinsing, and repeating (oh you know I repeated).
Maybe tomorrow... (Aha! Something to look forward to! Bet I just made your day)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
You HAVE to tell me what kind of shampoo that is!!!! I could really use a good orgasm... even if it is soap induced! I will take what I can get!
Post a Comment