Snatch Express Incoming
Officially, I am grossly behind on my e-mails, grossly, like it's embarrassing how behind I am in e-stalking people back. My sincere apologies. The past four days have been a cluster fuck wrapped in a riddle, served on burnt toast with rotting oysters and penicillin drenched cheese.
The Way We Were, saltines and Ginger Ale, my combo cure-all for stress, is doing fuck all. I have stressrhea, stomach pains that would make Satan climax, nausea to the point of making bulimics everywhere green with envy. Oh, wait, and I'm ovulating. If I were fucking, even myself, I'd be worried about getting knocked up. I'm too stressed out to take 5 minutes and spin a get-myself-off yarn. The shame. It's time to back the fuck off and re-evaluate my life.
Before I do...
I'm supposed to participate in a sleep study because of my freakish, incessant nightmares. My shrinktail hooked me up with a Sleep Daddy Doctor of Doom. Whatever. I called their office today to inquire about the process. I've never done a sleep study. I wanted all the dish and to find out if they'd let me sleep at home in my own bed. They don't. Today was not the day to hear that.
I spoke to SDDOF's sleep assistants. Lemme tell ya, that was an exercise in minimum wage isn't working. Pause-response-super-peen-egos-pause-response-hate-their-nine-dollar-per-hour-jobs-pause-response-white-lab-coat-beige-docker-wearing-pause-response-mullety-hair types. They felt so nose pickery, too, and like they eat Thai food at inappropriate hours of the day and call frozen yogurt "FroYo".
There was no way I was signing up to sleep in that clinic from midnight to 5:30 AM, to be gang banged, laughed at and boobie groped by Pip and Flip, two bitter pricktards who think driving around in two-toned black and gold Z-28's circa 1987 is hot. I'd rather belly slide attached to a rope behind a white trash 4x4 at 50 MPH on the 405 with a yeast infection and keep my nightmares.
How are you?
Comments
I love what this made you write but I am so not down with you being in this state!!
with videos....
Srsly, you rock.
Thanks also because this reminded me: I had a dream last night that my friend and co-blogger Ashley, who died earlier this year, appeared in my back yard. I ran up to him and he hit me with a shovel. Honest to Christ.
Oh, and shaving kittens, too...but that's because he couldn't get that right, either.
How could anyone go to a clinic and sleep? Seriously, how could they get accurate results?
A friend of mine did a sleep clinic thing - his description of it was pretty weird and involved very little actual sleep. I certainly wouldn't try it while the world is jumping up and down on you.
Good grief, Katie! No wonder you're sick! Seriously, my dear friend, your symptoms sound like food poisoning. Could you have eaten something bad before this happened? Have you been to a doctor? If *I* had been suffering for four days with "stressrhea, stomach pains that would make Satan climax, nausea to the point of making bulimics everywhere green with envy," I would be seeking medical help.
As for the sleep study...forget it. I recommend finding a sweet, caring, handsome, muscular, well-hung man to calm you down before you fall asleep and to comfort you throughout the night.
In the meantime, try doing a challenging Sudoku, crossword, or cryptogram right before going to sleep. That habit helped me to kick both insomnia and bad dreams.
You need some acid to calm down. Maybe a trip to Hawaii.
Or a sailboat to the Islands.
But I'm fine, thanks for asking!