Thursday, December 02, 2004

Sleep deprived rantings of a disordered mind

*Cough*wheeze*

Oh my stars, what have we here?

I am getting over a cold. I just turned 30. My contact lenses are killing me. I have to weigh in at WW tomorrow, which after the Thanksgiving Bonanza, ain't gonna be purty.

b*tch b*tch b*tch b*tch b*tch

Why oh why can't I find solace in the sweet arms of dreamland?

My rational mind is telling me to give the sleeping thing up as a bad job and just knit and bliss out in front of the TV watching informercials wih my doggies snoozing on my feet. This is, after all, my last night of maiden meditation, fancy-free- the hubby returns tomorrow night, after a two-month stint at Travis AFB. However, lo and behold, I got sucked into the computer. Riding the megabyte dragon, if you will. Did I mention I have to get up at 5:30 AM and be productive at work tomorrow? Which is *ahem* actually today. Oops.

It's all Dave's fault. His roomie's brother-in-law used to work with me (I know it's convoluted. I'm in Fresno, CA where everyone went to high school with, is related to, married, has slept/is sleeping/wants to sleep with, everyone else. Just breathe deeply and try to keep up)

Anyway, this guy I worked with briefly three years ago remembered my old webpage, Jenna's Juke Joint. He said it was a cool read, and wanted to know if it was still up and running. (It's not.) But, his fond memory of it sort of jolted me- particularly since I never advertised at work that I had a website, so I don't even know how he ran across the danged thing! But I am tickled pink that he'd remember such a thing.

Admittedly, all I remember about him was that he was a spry young whippersnapper (or larva, if you prefer.) And he once assisted me with the all-important task of switching the cover on my cell phone. So now I am overtaken with a mild sense of guilt. Not to mention anxiety, because how the hell did he find out about my webpage!?? (I seriously cannot even remember what was ON there, for Pete's sake.)

OK, kids. Enuff whinin'- s'way past my bedtime.

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