I'd murder someone for a drink right now. I would attempt to explain why if my brains weren't currently turned to baby poop. Maybe later....

I can feel my pulse in my eyelids. I think it must be shock.

I think I may have written about this coworker of mine before... But I can't remember, and I'm too lazy to go back and look.

Anyway, we'll call her Mary. Mary's fuckbuddy, David, is about 10 years younger than her. He doesn't love her, and he uses her for money and sex. They've been fucking for 2 years, so she's emotionally attached to him.... (It's of my firm belief that one person in a fuckbuddy relationship always gets attached. Always.)

For a while, they were going through rough times. He was most likely fucking other women while he ignored her. So, Mary began seeing David's brother. When she had sex with the brother, the brother was kind to her and a better lover. Eventually, David came around again, either for money or sex, I'm not sure which. Of course, he figured something was wrong when Mary didn't respond to him like a revolving door. When he found out she was sleeping with his brother, he unloaded on her (via phone text messages) that she'd hurt him and he never wanted to see or hear from her again. He called her a whore and a few other choice words.

Mary was hurt by this. Even after turning to the brother for companionship, she still loved the other asshat. She stopped talking to both of them for a few weeks.

Pretty soon, David began calling her again when he wanted an easy fuck. In the year that I've known her, I've been trying to convince her to just cut him off. She's too sweet of a woman to be treated so awfully. He doesn't give two shits about her, and he revealed his true feelings when she rejected him. But they're back to square one. I've seen her come to work twice in the last week with him... buying him things and acting so happy.

The dick thinks it's totally fine for him to fuck whatever hole is available and ignore her, then gets pissed off when her hole isn't available. He's allowed to screw around on her, but she's not allowed to be with anyone but him (forget the whole brother thing, he gets jealous of anyone admiring his booty call). He'll ignore her for days, but if she ignores one of his phone calls for a piece of ass, he gets pissed off.

And the money? That fuckstick makes more money than she does. He has no business asking for money from a woman who works at a fucking department store.

I hope for her sake that either he finds someone to replace her or she finds a nice man who truly wants her. The way I see it, he's just going to repeatedly abuse her until he's tired of her.

While I'm hoping for miraculous things, I hope his dick gets caught in a bear trap.

Fuck buddies are nothing but trouble ._.

Here's something humerous for the day~! Justin left me this link while I was at work: said link.

Many of you, even the few I know IRL, probably don't know who this person is. Well, to give a brief history... Justin and I knew this boy from elementary school. At that time, he was a genuine problem child. I recall him jumping out a classroom window to "run away." He was in the special classes, though he wasn't physically challenged... he just had/has behavioral issues. Big ones.

For some reason, in the 6th grade (he didn't even go to school with us anymore), he dug up my phone number and began calling me sporadically for a couple years. I don't recall the conversations, since they happened over 15 years ago, but I do remember that they were creepy. He'd talk about his parents, sister, girlfriend, as well as bizarre sexual things from time to time (like odd stories of things he'd heard girls masturbated with). He asked me out a few times, which always ended up with me getting uncomfortable and asking him not to call me. If you're wondering why I put up with it at all and didn't just tell him to fuck off.... well, I suppose I have always been too much of a creampuff when it comes to nutty people. I'll let them chatter about their problems until they cross a line, and then I tell them to shove off. (A few years ago, when I re-read all my paper diaries, I found a lot of random entries that ended with "I hate Scott!!" "Scott drives me insane and I wish he'd crawl away and die!" and so on. You have to remember, I was 12-14ish at the time.

I think I finally managed to get him to leave me alone after the creepiness reached levels I could not handle anymore, and I just hung up on him when he called.

To hear that he's in jail now isn't really a huge surprise.... What I do find odd was this part: "Stephenson was serving a 19-year sentence for convictions out of Fayette County, including receiving stolen property over $100, second-degree robbery, and theft by unlawful taking over $100." Is it me, or is 19 years a steep sentence for those crimes? If there were a gun involved or something, then maybe. I suppose it had to have been something more serious than the article lets on. Heh... I wonder how long he'll be locked up now. I don't actually care, I'm just curious. I love a good train wreck. Pretty sure he's got a few crotchdroppings out there, too. YAY!

I'm home on lunch right now, but I thought I should try to blab about this nightmare I had this morning before I forget.

In the nightmare, I was walking home at night (don't know where from or why I was walking). This guy jumps me from behind and knocks me to the ground, then he proceeds to beat my face in. There's a girl standing off behind him, egging him on. He says something about being a character in FFXI on the Remora server (this is what he said in my dream... I don't even know if there is a Remora server) named Lusty. I have no fucking clue what that's supposed to mean, but he seems pretty dead set on beating the shit out of me. Eventually, I scramble away and make it home. My nose is broken, and it feels like other bones in my face are smashed and slipping around under the skin. I stumble to my room and try calling for help, even getting on the computer... at which point I see that he's hacked everyone in my linkshell's characters. My dad arrives, and I'm screaming about my broken face and what not, when I hear things hitting the roof. I go outside and see toilet paper rolls scattered across the roof and they're on fire. I recall trying to hose them off, but it's icy outside and the hosing just makes it worse.

Right about then, I wake up from the pain. It hurt so fucking badly that I actually got up and went to the bathroom to see if I was okay. I thought maybe I had smashed my face against the wall in my sleep or something, but I was fine... It was just a really vivid dream.

All I can say, "What the fuck?" I haven't had a nightmare, let alone something that vivid and painful, in a very long time. I wonder what brought it on. It woke me up in the middle of the night, and I had to go in to work this morning at 10am... So, I got maybe 5 hours of sleep. UGH. >< I still remember the sensation of having bits of my skull sliding around..... it's very bizarre, but the dream is fading. Luckily.

I strange thought just fluttered across my mind, and I happened to catch it before it flew away. I was looking at jewelry online and saw a link to family trinkets. You know the kind; those cute little necklaces with "children" on them, charm bracelets, customized rings, and such. For a very brief nanosecond, I thought, "Something like that might be nice for my mom." This was immediately banished by the sad knowledge that my mother would probably wonder what such a trinket was made of and its value before she'd ever consider wearing it.

My mom's a bit of a superficial cunt, you see. Okay, that was a bit harsh. We'll just strike that and call her a snob instead.

A snob of epic proportions.

I'm not sure exactly where the snobbiness comes from. She was reared by her aunts--two lovely women who made their own money and lived quite comfortably in their own right. Neither ever married (sound familiar?). One was a cheapskate, while the other loved to spend her money. When my mom got married, they had our house built, which my mom still lives in to this day (and the property value is retardedly expensive now).

My mom hardly worked a day in her life, having nearly everything provided for her by my great aunts, even after they passed away. Trust funds and all that. In reflection of my childhood, most of my memories with my mom involve shopping. She used to buy me so many toys, so many clothes, so much jewelry... I'd have traded it all for a goddamn hug once in a while, but that's beside the point.

She loves money. She loves shopping and having a new car.

Unfortunately, she's pissed away all the money she had. Now she's got mortgages and social security. Woopdi fucking do. All because she couldn't live within her means... and she still can't. The last time I was at her house, she had all this new furniture and decor. A single painting for a couple hundred bucks.... And yet, she wants to borrow money from me from time to time. Naturally, if I make any complaint about her spending, she seethes into a "Don't talk to me like that, I'm an adult, I can spend my money however I like" fit.

Anyhow, she was one of those people who always had to have expensive things... cared more about the price tag than the quality or emotion tied to a gift.

Maybe that's why I've never been like that; it was too appalling to me. Odd that my sister, who despises my mother and the ground she walks on, is so much like her. Name brands or nothing. Heh.

When I was in the 6th grade, I was given a kitten by my reading teacher. (I didn't like this teacher very much... that should have been a warning, ne? She was the only teacher who ever sent me to detention in middle school... for not reading The Secret Garden, of all things.) Anyhow, I named her Stormy because it was raining the day I got her, and she's one of those dark gray/silver cats.

From day one, she was mean as sin. Even as a kitten, she hissed at guests and what not. It got worse as she got older. Hyper-territorial to the point that she'd attack me if guests were over.... Taking her to the vet was pretty much out of the question since I'd have to pay for her to be sedated the whole time, otherwise she'd rip someone's hand off. When I had her fixed, the people at the vet office said she was the meanest cat they'd ever seen. -_- They had to noose her just to get her out of the cage and back into it... and she was sedated nearly the entire time. When I brought her home, she was so out of it that she'd peed all over herself in the pet carrier.

As for peeing... She's always been mildly retarded about that, also. She pees on everything. Remember that bedroom I fixed up a couple years ago? The one I tore out the carpet from and then redid the floors all by myself? Yeah, she'd been the one to destroy that room. She's still peeing on things to this day. At least now I can say it's old age on top of her retardation.

People always wonder why I've kept her. To be honest, I've wanted to be rid of her many times in my life. She's a nuisance 90% of the time, especially with the house-ruining pee.... But I could never get rid of her. She's my cat and my responsibility. (This feeling is why I'm always so angry with my mother when she's gotten animals and then gotten rid of them.) In some sort of dysfunctional way, I guess I love her like a pet owner should. She can be affectionate with me when she wants. In fact, lately, she's taken to lying by my feet when I'm on the computer. She likes to be in the same room with me and what not, even if she has tried to claw me in half in the past. Old age has mellowed her out quite a bit. She doesn't attack people anymore, but her arthritis is probably what's slowed her down. She hobbles wherever she goes, and it's earned her a rather silly nickname of "Wobbles."

So, here's where I spill the beans on why I'm writing about her. No, she hasn't died. Though, at nearly 16 years old, death can't be far off. You see, she has very thick fur and sheds like crazy all year round. I try to keep her groomed when she flops down next to me on the couch if I have a brush handy. She's so old and tubby that she can't clean more than her front paws on her own. Her back fur gets very matted and clumps together with cat dandruff. So, once or twice a year, I brush her out and pull apart the clumps and snip away as much fur on her back as possible. Sometimes I'll fill an entire plastic grocery sack with clumps of cat fur.

So, today, I noticed that she was her fur was in a nasty state. I sat down beside her and groomed her with a brush while pulling apart matted chunks and sometimes cutting them off completely. Her lower back was the worst, and I spent about 20 minutes just brushing her fur and clipping away clumps. She rather enjoyed herself, sitting there purring and nuzzling against my hand as I clipped and brushed and tossed the fur into the garbage. Well, after clipping away a clump of fur, I looked down... And I had clipped a bit of her skin. She didn't feel it and hadn't made a sound. When I stopped brushing her, she headbutted my hand, while I silently freaked out that I had cut my cat. I examined the cut closely to see if it were bleeding, but it thankfully was not. It was, however, about the size of a dime. I was horrified, to say the least. After putting some antiseptic on it, she continued to sit on the couch, totally oblivious.

She appears to be fine. Right now, she's sitting by my foot, per usual. The snip wasn't very deep, luckily, but it's still gross. I feel awful for being so careless. Just imagine someone pinching your skin and snipping it off. I'm really glad she doesn't feel it. I'll have to keep my eye on the wound for the next few days to make sure it doesn't get infected. The fact that it's on her back and won't get into any dirt besides her own fur is somewhat of a plus.

Ugh... I feel really badly about it D: I was just trying to groom some of the weight off her back.

Anyhow, had to get that off my chest. It's been bugging me since it happened. I can't describe the horror I felt other than to write... You know that feeling when you accidentally step on a pet? Amplify that x10. I'm a bad mommy D:

Man, did I have some bizarro dreams last night. Sadly, I can't remember much of them since I didn't linger in bed long after I woke up. What I do remember is something about having a baby and trying to nurse it... And then the baby was a kitten?

....

I DON'T KNOW. There was also a dream involving going down Alumni Rd. on foot, as well as something about my mom's neighborhood, which is close by. Maybe post-apocalyptic? *shrug*

OH. There was also a dream about an airport and something about Japan. My mom was there, I think. I remember looking at photograph in which she was wearing a kimono and had a parasol, and all I could think was, "What the hell?"

Lotta dreams somehow related to my mom or mothering. Probably because I ran into her yesterday at work on my way to break. She managed to make me feel like shit in under five minutes. Go, mom! I eventually ran away from her and had a cigarette outside, but the seeds of poopiness were already sprouting before I even sat down.

Murrrrr....

So goddamn happy to be home from work and to have 2 days off after an icky six day stretch.

I feel like shit... in so many ways. For starters, I can't seem to catch a break. I keep getting sick, and when one sickness heals, another one comes my way. It's stress, I know. Blah blah blah. I know that depression takes a giant shit on the immune system. Tell me how to fucking fix it.

I've lost all patience for whining. I can barely tolerate my own, let alone the rest of the world. Being a heartless bitch is not fun... not when you're all too familiar with the cause for whining from others.

I haven't seen enough of my real friends lately. I blame work. When I'm not working, I'm horribly fucking selfish with my time. I just want to sleep or loaf around on my ass. My time is so precious... yet all I do is a whole lot of nothing.

Living without purpose or without anything to look forward to... working just to keep on living, when you don't even have the desire to... is like beating yourself in the face with a dead cat every morning.

I haven't been inspired to do anything lately... be it draw or make a necklace or even make a silly animation on the computer. Too drained.

I need a vacation.

Heh... my head is so congested that I'm partially deaf. I'm not kidding; I can bearly hear in my left ear. This is particularly annoying while I'm at work and customers on the phone mumble incoherently. "sgskgg game daklgsga." I switch to my right ear, which is less stuffy and hear, "dklsgs pssst gsfajgsk." Okay.... Even after asking people to speak up, I usually don't hear anything. This is a huge problem even when I'm not sick. Annunciate, for fuck's sake.

Here it is 6:30am. Wooo. I got off work at 11:00pm last night and a manager asked if I could come in at 7am to cover someone else's shift. I said no. Imagine if I had said yes... I'd be going to work in 15 minutes! Woo, that would be awesome. It'd be so freakin' sweet to have that shift at any other time... but not after you've been working me all night shifts for the last year.

I don't sleep at night. After work, I'm up for several hours because my brain won't shut down. The only way to reprogram it is to stay up for 2 days and hold out on sleep until a regular bedtime--like 11pm. Even after doing that, I usually bounce right back to my shitty sleeping schedule in a matter of days.

I wish my dad hadn't used his timeshare this year already. I really need a vacation... I mean a real vacation. Away and alone. God, that would be wonderful. I came really close to quitting today. The thought kept circling around my head everywhere I went. Every moment I wasn't helping a customer, my brain was screaming, "Get me the fuck out of here!" Heh, one manager said to me last night, "I've seen you watching that TV all night. Why don't you zone up the department?" Well, I'm not sure what was on the TV. I think it was the old Transformers movie. I'd just zoned the last aisle of the department, and I was meandering up to my return buggy when I glanced at the TV (it was a refurbished one we were trying to get rid of) and noticed that the sound was turned up. Customers had been turning it up all day, and my coworker and I had been turning it back down. But after she'd made her comment, I lost all motivation to give a shit. I finished zoning outside the department, in my own little murderous world, and I attempted to go home when the other manager caught me to ask about coming in early.

It's just one of those things, you know? I can't stand condescending people and probably 4-5 of my store managers are. Some of them couldn't manage their way out of a paper bag but having a degree or family in the business lets them slide by like a greased pig. The ones who have actually worked in retail I can respect. They know how utterly fucking miserable it is and know they can't do any better, so they did what they could and moved up. Others, I'm just not sure about. You'd think they'd be grateful for whatever help they've got... not treat them like something they'd avoid stepping in on the street. It's just a job. I'm just here to do my job and collect my paycheck until you piss me off to the point that I don't want a paycheck from you. I'd rather live on ramen and canned corn than deal with it, sometimes.

However, I'm trying to save up some money. Lately, I've been losing sight of why....

If this is all the world has to offer--meeting more and more assholes every day--I think I'd rather be stranded somewhere far away.

This is how I have been spending most of my time when I am not working:

After work, I come home and sift through LJ communities such as WTF, inc. for a few minutes, then I check my e-mail (which is always empty). I'll log into FFXI and check on little things here and there... like seeing who is doing what and if I can join, then I usually log off or continue browsing the internet while scoping the game once and again. I chat with Viciouz on AIM and do a puzzle with him once in a while.

I just bought Sims 2 a couple weeks ago, so I've been playing that when the mood strikes me.

If I'm in a really creative mood, I'll try to draw something on the computer. If I'm in a lazy mood, I'll go see if there is anything on OnDemand worth watching.

When I go to bed, I play my DS and/or read a bit 'til I'm sufficiently sleepy. I wake up one hour before work, check things on the computer again... and repeat the day before.

On my off days, sometimes I talk to a friend, if I'm lucky enough. Usually I spend the day doing laundry and doing random cleaning around the house until I'm bored with that. Then, it's back to the computer and/or some game.

This has been my life for the last year. It is boring, and it sucks.