I agree, North Dakota man. I agree.
Are y'all getting these Britney Spears-and-other-stupid-whore-I-mean-starlet-related spam e-mails, too? I don't know why, but they are cracking me the fuck up. I suppose this is at least in part because the subject lines tend to be spelled and punctuated correctly. Seriously, so many people say "I could care less," which isn't really what they mean. So that subject line sent me over the fucking edge.
Man, it is sad what I will accept with proper spelling and grammar.
There have been more over the past couple of days, but I unfortunately deleted a lot of them. Still, I do have a sampling:
Britney Spears' New Hair Extensions Are Lindsay Lohan's Pubes
Britney sues vagina for divorce
Letterman Interviews Paris Hilton's Vagina
Britney stalker sues for distress
And unrelated, but it made me giggle:
Does your Mr. Winkie need upgrading? Our offer will interest you.
For the record, I have yet to open any of these.
Moving on, I think I'm mostly out of my funk. I think it's because I mentally slapped myself in the face and said, "Shape up!" Or it's because work has slowed down a bit? Who knows? I'm just glad I am feeling better.
Though, my brain isn't working quite the way I want it to yet. I'm still having weird dreams and being completely forgetful of real-life stuff. I'm still reading things into people's comments that most likely aren't there. I nearly forgot the Future Mrs. Dirk's birthday yesterday. I forgot to RSVP to my cousin's wedding. I had no idea it was almost the fucking end of August.
Last night, I packed up my gym bag because I had this grand plan to take my car to get checked (the place that did my tranny wants to check the fluid levels to make sure everything is going okay) after work and then hit the gym on the way home, so as to minimize my driving and leave plenty of time for the other shit I have to do tonight.
I threw my clothes and monstrous sport bra into my gym bag and thought and thought, but I couldn't think of anything else I needed. But it felt like I was forgetting something. The same thing happened this morning when I picked up my bag to head out the door. There was something I should be taking with me, but what? I had clothes and shoes. That's all I need.
Of course, I realized a couple of hours later that I didn't bring my contacts. I loathe working out in my glasses. But! I am not going to be a baby. I will suck it up and wear my glasses while at the gym. It won't kill me. The old Jess might have gone home and put in her contacts and messed up the grand plan. The older Jess might have skipped working out at all.
Okay, the current Jess might also skip working out if the car check-up takes too long. I have a Family Drinking Weekend starting tomorrow, so I have to pack and do some baking tonight. While I'm not thrilled knowing I will have to talk about my job with the family, it's a small price to pay to get to spend time with the fam -- eight of my dad's nine siblings will be home. It's usually the best we can do outside of a wedding. And we certainly won't get that crowd for my cousin's commitment ceremony next summer.