Pickle Sleep Huh What?

I am so tired that I can’t even function. I am just a ball of string bouncing along. I feel like my head is a fishbowl full of words that are just clanking around nonsensically. Jogoblin neehow plus! That really seems like a sentence right now.

Why am I even on here, instead of sleeping? Oh yeah, responsibilities. I hate those naughty naughty things.


Sick and Tired of Being Dead

I woke up this morning dead.

Okay, not dead. But not that alive, either. I am sick, sick, sick. I knew it was going to happen. It’s like that moment when your bike skids out of control and for a split second you think, “Oh, shit,” and then it’s all pavement and scars. Except it is nothing like that. I woke up a bunch of times in the night and every time it was like some awful Sickness Mathematician Fairy had flown over my head and multiplied the badness.

Maybe if I had been sleeping under a magical night sky, that wouldn’t have happened. Either way, I feel like someone chopped off my head, puffed it up with helium and childrens’ tears, reattached it, kicked me down the world’s longest flight of stairs, injected lead into my veins, and then threw coconuts at me for an hour. IT’S NOT A GOOD FEELING.

Long story short, I am going to sleep all goddamn day and not feel bad about it.


Dear Internet, it’s my birthday in two months. I want this:

Thank you in advance.

Winter Wilds

Do you ever just feel like doing something absolutely outrageous, like dancing on a table or streaking or rescuing a giraffe from the zoo and making him be your pet? I get this feeling that I call the “summer wilds,” on account of the fact that it typically takes place in the summer, but I guess my brain is seasonally confused because I have it right now.

Seriously, on January 2nd, I am done with snow and being freezing cold everywhere I go and wearing thirty-seven layers. And not the cute kind of layers, but long-johns (okay, I don’t actually wear those, although if I did it might solve Thing I Hate About Winter #2) and fifty scarves. The snow is all charming and adorable during the holidays, but afterward, when it’s all pollution-dirty and icy? Not so much.

Right now, I just want summer. And I know, those people who bitch all summer about how hot it is and then change their tune are dumb. But seriously, it was -11 yesterday, so fuck it, I want sunshine and sand.

Either way, though, I kinda have that let’s-go-crazy mentality usually reserved for when I’m not pale and suffering from frostbite. Except that I know I’ll be all, “Yeah, let’s rage, come on, let’s go!” and bop outside with some contraband FourLoko and then be all, “Shit, no,” and stumble back into a warm bed.

Long story short, I am just going to shut up, calm down, and appreciate the good things about the world being an icy hell. Like warm cozy blankets, and hot coco with whipped cream, and watching people slip and fall in the snow.

Homey Home

Being home has many Amazing Good Things, like real food and a bed with a million blankets on it. But home also lacks three pivotal aspects of my life: sexy time, alcohol, and 420 friendliness.

That being said, though, my bed is soooo comfy right now.