So sleepy

Ok, this guy next to me is playing Enya at his fucking desk. Then the girl down the aisle says, "Hey, is that Enya? Turn it up!" Now four or five people are blissing out in a musical paradise. And I took my knitting needles home {I swear, I did well in school, but I'll never learn to knit}, so what can I use to stab myself in the ears?

A lot of people like Enya, that's ok with me. I don't have a need to condemn people for liking music that I don't. And perhaps in certain moods I could tolerate it. However, I come up against the same obstacle again and again. It's too fucking soothing.

Small blessings for today:
-desk neighbor isn't singing
-he didn't bring his guitar
-he isn't talking to me.

Hey, if he read this blog, I bet he'd never talk to me.

any ways, back to my hiatus, I still hate the sight of my own words. Ooh, that reminds me: check out http://everybodysucksbutme.blogspot.com/ . It's fake, half the posts aren't even mine. I just searched through other blogs and copied and pasted and added a few things here & there. It fills me with shameful pride or prideful shame, but who can tell the difference anymore. I'm keeping it because I can't believe that url was still available.

Also, it's Friday the 13th. I have a sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop (that's a weird expression isn't it).