November 30, 2006
i...wanna be...misanthropy

(well, misanthropic, actually.)

The misanthropy is strong in me today. I woke up with a hate-on for the world. Nothing I've done today has allowed the dread and aversion to lift. So I've been dipping into the darker section of my CD collection. (Do I care that being sad and seeking out Peter Murphy's "Cuts You Up" is a cliché? Nope.) I've taken to surfing pages of people who used to be friends years and years ago, and wallowing in schadenfreude whenever I can find it. (I know, I'm proud of myself too.) Needless to say, my diet has gone completely out the fuckin window.

In related news, I've decided that my desire for a second baby is stupid, and based on the following reasons:

See? Don't feel bad. I also hate myself.

(As I'm writing this self-pitying entry, Blake has been amusing himself with the huge plastic Swiss Army Knife I got as a camp counsellor. Now he's moved on to playing with an elephant while wearing his father's sombrero. How am I supposed to keep up the hate under these conditions?)

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 11/30/2006 06:11:00 p.m.

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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*