I Think I Should Go to Bed Early Tonight

I am so tired. It’s not just this weekend that wore me out, but I think it did erode the last little bit of my rationality. I have no middle ground anymore. There are two states to my existence. I love and I hate. If I’m forced to think about something in which I have no interest, it goes in the hate pile. I love my life and my family and my friends. I feel like a hippie on ecstasy. I’ve only been around a few people on X in my life, and I hate them. If I could go back in time and see them again I’d bring a taser, and see if we could induce a psychotic episode or two. Nancy Reagan wasn’t joking about saying no to drugs and neither am I. I love that I live in the South. I love that we’re not packed in like sardines; that space isn’t at a premium because I hate paying for parking. I spend about $3 a day on parking and I hate every single penny of it. If I don’t pay the fee it’s a $25 ticket, yet everyday I have to talk myself out of trying to time the parking Nazis. I love working close to home. I love my office. I hate almost everyone in my office. I hate the guy two doors down from me. I hate that his head is wider than his shoulders. I hate all of his Florida Gator paraphernalia (why is there an R in paraphernalia), especially since he didn’t go to UF. He’s not even from Florida. He’s from somewhere in the Midwest. I hate that I got an urgent email telling me I had to provide 3 months of bank records for an audit, and when I provided them I was told it was too early and that I needed to wait until the end of June. The email said I could be fined if the records weren’t in by July 8. If the requestor wasn’t a convenient notary public, I would have been buying, instead of just pricing, lime and shovels. I hate that I force myself to post everyday. I love that posting everyday makes writing easier. Strangely, I feel better.