soapboxdiner

Restless

I need a haircut in the worst way. Which is really funny, because I just had one about three weeks ago when I got it colored. As I usually only get my hair trimmed about twice a year, the fact that I feel so desperate to get a good evening out of the ends is a very telling thing.

Something in my is very restless today. Has been for a while, really. I can't place my finger on it. I suppose I'll just chuck the manic state into that timely catch-all: Spring fever - this feeling of frantically needed to be somewhere but kicking and spitting to stay right where I am and not ever leaving.

Columbia House music has been sending me threatening letters telling me to buy their music before May or they'll just collect their money anyway without me getting any new CDs out of the bargain. They tell me I need to buy 5 at regular price. This weekend I finally sat down and made my selections - which was excruciatingly difficult because I was thoroughly unimpressed with everything they offered. But I finally picked 6. I brushed the imaginary dust from my hands and thought, "At last, I can be done with this."

Tonight I checked the status of my order and sure enough, they show that I've purchased all six of my albums, but they say I still have to buy 3 more, as four of the six were on their sales promotion list. Crap, that's $70 down the toilet. Anyone want some music? I've exhausted the list of music I'll actually listen to off their site.

Restless. It goes well, apparently, with crabby, discontented, gassy, ravenously hungry, and plagued with hot flashes. Maybe it's just that I've come down with PMS. That's been happened with some regularity lately. Don't ask me why my body has revolted. It used to be such a nice body, too.

Oh, speaking of bodily functions, menopausal co-worker told me today, when asked about her weekend, that it had been good, but today she has diarrhea.

I don't really know if I should file that in the The Co-Workers Have Welcomed Me In As a Sister bin, or if I should leave it where my first impulse placed it: The Way Too Much Information bin. For some reason, I'm always taken aback when people talk about what comes out their tail ends and at what consistency and/or frequency. Things I never expect to be topics of conversation, I suppose.

I think I'll just go get some sleep.

Night.

10:31 pm - 03.17.03
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