Creamy Arty

Rarely. The latest I typically go to bed is 2 or 2:30 in the morning, and it happens more often than I care to admit. Went to bed at 1 this morning. It's so frustrating sometimes because I want to go to bed earlier and I know how bad I'll feel the next day, but I do it anyway >_<

To put it simply there wasn't a single year of school that wasn't soul-crushingly miserable and left me abject and alone. Never did have any friends or allies growing up and every day sucked. It truly was the school of hard knocks. Above the rest, 7th grade stands out as being distinctly the most horrible. As it was for most people. It was the same as every other year, just more intense. Yep. When I was in middle school, school workloads received a lot of media attention for being too heavy. Many parents lodged complaints with the county school board because their kids were having to begin school around 7 in the morning and were given enough homework to keep them busy until 11-midnight, and enough on weekends so that they would again stay busy the entire day. They had no time to live or do anything fun or relaxing, nor spend time with friends and family. Bad enough when you're an adult and you have to deal with that every now and then, but even worse when you're still in your formative years and bursting with energy, yet saddled with such a workload constantly. Fortunately the outrage got things lightened significantly and kids were able to start having normal lives.

Everyone was my enemy, and most of the teachers were bastards as much as the next student, except for two that I can remember from Kindergarten all the way through 12th grade, so the odds were almost always against me. It always sucked ass, so eventually I took matters into my own hands when something needed to be done about other students who were giving me a hard time, and told the teachers who encouraged their delinquency what I thought of them as well when they had a problem with it.

I've lived almost exclusively on McChicken sandwiches from McDonald's for the past several weeks. It can be done.

Reckon I'm on the bandwagon now too.

I realize how weird this is going to sound, but I enjoy getting shots. I like the feeling of getting stuck with the needle and the unique kind of soreness that follows for a while. Got a flu shot a little earlier this year, and I wish I could have gotten another. Now that I'm thinking about it, I could use a stick now... Getting blood drawn isn't as pleasant since the needle sits there for a while as they're waiting for the tubes to fill up. Donating pints isn't fun at all because that thing is like a turkey baster and by the end of it I'm feeling a bit lightheaded and possibly cold.

Something just big enough for me and what I currently own. I'm not vain, nor do I want more house to care for than I have time or means to do so. Two bedrooms, one large enough for my bed, dresser, and computer, and one to hold my retro gaming stuff and bookshelves are enough. One bathroom, a living room large enough for my couch, recliner, end table, and a floor lamp, and a kitchen large enough for a table. Reasonable expectations for a house with only one or two occupants, I would say. Put all of that together in a log house and I would be the happiest man in the world, but I'll take it in any format. As for the surrounding area, all I ask is sufficient room to park my car, quiet or no neighbors, internet availability comparable to what I have now, and without a road running right in front of my place for traffic noise to disturb me.

All at the same time sounds like an excellent idea to me...

Just ate me some Pad Thai, which is so delicious... But my favorite food is hard to determine. It would have to be something traditionally breakfast-related. I love sweet things, and breakfast contains lots of that. Possibly French toast.

Work, typically. My time off is limited, so I would prefer to save it for when I'm feeling good and can enjoy it. Sick days typically consist of me plodding along my normal routine.

My aunt Vivian is 95, I believe, and my grandmother is 83. Vivian is as frail and hard of hearing as they come, but her mind is as sharp as it ever was. Grandma is the opposite. For somebody her age, she can maneuver surprisingly well, although her mind is almost entirely gone, to the point that she can't even speak anymore and it's doubtful she can understand much of what's said to her. She at least seem aware of this fact, oddly enough, as indicated by her sometimes pointing at her head and having an exasperated look on her face. It's kind of sad, really, and she doesn't know who any of us are anymore.

I didn't see it ending quite how it did, but it's all good. Once she gets here, I'm going to find a place of honor for her among all of my other pony stuff.

It might be? Hmm... I'll say $260. Feels like I'm playing a game of chicken. xD

Easy there, boy, easy xD 240.00