if you could see me, you'd be telling me to stop smacking my forehead. I've deleted my entries for November 12th and December 29th by accident. This isn't the first time I've done this and it's just more frustrating when I repeat the mistake.

Why don't I ever learn my lesson?

Other than that, things are better than I could've hoped today.

Sight; Cool cartoon evil bitches in full color. Makes my fingers itch for a pencil just looking at it. I've been very undisciplined lately, and have taken to drawing half naked cartoon women instead of studying the female form. It's like having my desert before dinner. Bad Sarah.

Sound; Poor Sid hasn't quite regained his lung capacity yet. He sounds like a 90 year old woman when he breathes, and now he snores.

Taste; I made some sort of "One Pan Suprise" cotaining, 1 tomato, 1 red onion, and 4 chicken breast strips. It was good, but I was craving subway.

Touch; The dragonfly woman I had put on my left thigh last over a year ago is itching like mad and is a little raised off my skin...is there a doctor inthe house? Why does this happen? I'd ask the guy that did it, but he's going to jail for having illegal ammo.

Smell; I really need some more incense. You'd be suprised at the exhaust that can come out of a 4 month old cat's hind-quarters.

~ ~ ~

January 12, 2000
Creature of Habit

Every morning, my day starts the same way. Every day. Depending on my frame of mind that day, I think it's because I've just discovered the perfect 15 minute shower dress and makeup in the car, and the other part of me thinks that I can't get out of a rut.

On one hand, I really enjoy my routine, and on the other I've always bucked against living a life of complacency. Maybe this is coming from getting married. I love Adam beyond reason, but every human being goes through the "is this the right decision" line of mental questioning occasionally. Maybe I'm doing that now, and not even really thinking about it. But maybe, I'm giving myself a reason to deny that I enjoy being settled. Why would I rebel against that? Who knows, but the latter seems to feel more right. The most likely answer is that I'm over analyzing.

Lately I've felt that my life is just chop wood, carry water. Complete one task, start another. Mindless. Numbing. I started to have plenty of time to talk to myself. Not outloud, but to just think, while my hands are busy doing other things. I'm only half there lately when it comes to the everyday tasks. It isn't as odd as it sounds, I'm sure I'm not the only person that does it.

In the midst of all the oh so interesting introspection, I pulled a coup at the office and finished this week's stressful task ahead of deadline. I'm pleased with myself.

I felt red.

There's a guy out there that doesn't know it, but he gave me this whole little tangent to go off on lately. Drawing the supermortal Red Sarah in my everyday places with a huge rack and too much hair. I've completely put my figure drawing away and now I'm worrying over where the light should reflect off the nipple showing through the latex.

Nothing tangible has happened lately...chop wood, carry water. Everything that has happened has been upstairs. Questioning the way I think. The way I label things. Good, bad, evil...I classify things in the type of energy they carry. I've always thought that passion was good energy, then today something made me think of this, and then I thought that passion is sometimes anger, and anger is bad energy, so occasionally good energy must be bad energy simultaneously. And right here, I had just unbalanced the way that I classify the things I see and the interactions I have. Just when I felt I had a firm footing, I have to be refreshed on the complexity of the hive that we live in everyday. Question your own truths.

I'm so deep I just might choke on it. I swear, no matter what it sounds like, I really am in a good mood. Tired though.

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