Monkey Stomped.

If I don't get to serious levels of work SOON, I may as well just drop half my classes. If I were to do something as wondrous as W.O.R.K, maybe someday soon I could be the "stomper" and not quite so much the "stompee." [dreams, cheek in hand, staring off into space] Last tuesday I felt so much more... um... not like a lazy jackass. But then again, last week, all my deadlines were a full WEEK away. This week they are a full week closer. Odd how that happens, huh? Odd and unfair. It's a cruel world. WAHHH! Somehow I've convinced myself that nobody else in the history of academia has ever had to work full time and go to school full time and keep up home & hearth type crap. At least not without huge accolades and kudos from all who witness the heroic and inspiring saga. Would it kill y'all to send me some roses every now and then? I'm doing this for you, yanno.

Illusions of grandeur? What illusion? pfft!

Of course, I need only look as far as my MIL to see that I'm just being whiny. She's doing master's level coursework, is a (?) office manager (?) at her job, and takes care of 2 kids and 2 very hyper dogs. So, yeah-- she wins on that. (Luv's ya Harriette!) I "take care of" a fairly self-sufficient husband who is super-supportive, and two completely self-sufficient kitties. They've abandoned the notion of getting fresh water from the kitchen and now drink solely from the toilet. (The kitties, not the husband.) We try to use one bathroom for us-- and leave the other as their "water dish." It's for the best, really. Plus, I was tired of getting their death-glares when they caught me pooping in their water dish. Perfectly understandable, I think.


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Why do some ppl seem so proud of their diseases? There are a few ppl in my sphere of existence that just can't wait to tell me how badly they've abused their body since last we spoke. They are genuinely thrilled to express how uncompromisingly stupid they have been in terms of staying alive. I've been trying to explain to one girl for 2 YEARS now that just because she has "low blood sugar" (read: can't pronounce "hypoglycemic") does NOT mean she gets to eat as much sugar as she can get her hands on. In fact, it means exactly the opposite, unless she's really excited to graduate to full blown diabetes. The last time she told me allllllllllllll her little health oddities and eccentricities it became pretty clear that we need to throw her a party-- she has reached her goal of insulin dependence. YAYYYYYY!!!!! I cannot fathom that someone who spends as much time hangin' with the docs as she does has never had the mystery of hypoglycemia explained to her. But then again-- this is the girl who thinks ppl who have pacemakers will DIE if they ever go out into the cold. (Um-- ppl in Wisconsin have pacemakers....) Thinking about this makes my head hurt. I wish she would stop telling me her disgusting health stuff. I do not care how many potty breaks she takes in a day. Really. She tells me how many times a day she pees. WHY??????


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I'm sure on a scattalogical bent today. I wonder what's up with that? Maybe it's because I have no female friends around me anymore. For some reason-- the only ppl I hang out with right now are guys. Of course "hang out" has been reduced to two 15 minutes breaks and 1 hour long lunch. I'm learning that with guys, no amount of potty humor is too much. Nothing is too vulgar, distasteful, or unnecessary. You actually get extra points if you can re-enact a scene better than the next guy. Double points awarded if you can make the lone female of the group (ie, me) turn a little green while she tries in vain to enjoy her awesome home-cooked dinner. Triple points awarded when lone female gives up and hands the plate over to one of the guys.

Last night's band of scatti-scholars emulated how morbidly obese ppl have to mount toilets in small bathrooms. (Not that the conundrum has never crossed my mind, but...)

WHERE MY GIRLS AT!?!?!?!?!?!


I neeeeeeeed a girl's night out before I up and sprout a penis.