Moan-day
I know I should be thankful that I even have a job. A relatively easy, flexible job at that; one that affords me time to sit here and do this whole blogging thing in the first place. And I am, I guess. Thankful, that is. When I think about it. Which I should do more often. But I hate my alarm clock. Hate it hate it hate it.
Why am I so tired? I feel like I got old all of the sudden, within a matter of weeks; my hands dried out, I started longing for bed at around 9:30pm, and can suddenly no longer tolerate spinach. And I like spinach! My stomache reminds me, however, that no matter when, where, or how I eat it, that I simply oughtn’t. Sad.
I think I can blame the dry hands on the diving temperatures and my over-heated apartment. The tiredness… Well, blame that on poor time management and the frustrating nature of life in general. I guess. But this issue with the spinach… That’s just about aging. Pretty soon it will be nothing but creamed corn and pepto bismol. And what is with this cherry-floavored pepto bismol, all of the sudden? Ack. Not that I’ve tried it. Yet. But as I said, it’s only a short matter of time.