2001-04-24 - 10:55 a.m.
Yay, Internet Access!
Whew, I'm back. Ain't that Northpoint thing a bitch? I've got a TON of catching up to do, so here's the entry that I had all ready for a month ago.
I mean I couldn’t write a thing - even to save myself from rabid bunnies. If it was me, a boy scout master with a bull whip who owned a dildo shop, my 2nd grade Catholic Nun teacher, and a gaggle of rabid bunnies in a small broom closet – and all that was required of me to extricate myself from the ‘situation’ was a short paragraph about something – anything – interesting, I couldn’t do it.
So. Tonight's Mental health lecture was about maladaptive coping mechanisms for stress and anxiety.
Our lecturer was telling us all about one of them being Dissasociative disorders. "Basically, someone suffering from a dissasociative disorder is living in denial."
Our lecturer had a comb-over.
All day at the curb,
I knew that if I had been right there, if I had been able to just wheel around and yell at that woman about what an evil person she was, or maybe just spun and punched her in the side of the head, I probably would have. And it would have felt good. And I would have had a huge, proud smile on my face as I turned in my teal smock.
i think the general idea is to date someone whom you feel the same way about when you're NOT in the room with them as you do when you ARE.
I forgot to tell you (months ago)
Life is complicated. Lets all go back to mud huts that wash away in the rain and trading ferrets.
it pleases me to find memos on my desk from bossmonster. we work in a big room. we both work in the SAME big room. we work on opposite ends of the same big room. we can see each other at all times. we talk all day long. and still, he writes memos for me. this tickles me. he just this minute wrote up a memo, sent it to the printer, walked over to the printer, which is 5 feet away from me, and put the memo in front of me.