2000-12-15 - 986031831

On the internal soundtrack: "Freedom Now", Tracy Chapman.

So Poindexter decided, due to a legitimate reason that's too long to explain here, that we wouldn't be going to his office holiday party after all. Problem is, he had already RSVP'd.

His proposed solution, for whatever reason, was for his wife to "get sick", and he would have to stay home and take care of her. He decided that puking was the way to go, since he would be needed at home to hold my hair back and rinse out the bucket and such and couldn't go to the party alone.

So he's been IM'ing me little updates on my condition all day, as he "relayed" them to his coworkers:

"You're starting to feel queasy."

"You're thinking about heading home."

"You're on your way home but haven't puked yet. You feel like you will."

At this point I suppose I have.

(Have I mentioned that I hate, hate, HATE puking? I haven't puked since the summer before senior year in college, which makes it about 7.5 years. I hope I never puke again, however unrealistic a hope that may be.)

Anyways. It's an elaborate ruse, that's for sure.

I'm reading an article about Paula Yates in this month's Glamour. The magazine refers to Michael Hutchence's "suicide".

Um.

What was the official verdict on that, anyway? Everything that I've heard points to accidental death caused by misjudging things in the activity he was engaged in at the time. Not the same thing as suicide. More like, say, bungee jumping. You don't bungee jump to kill yourself, but if you misjudge the height of the bridge versus the length of the bungee cord, you might well end up doing just that. Which is why I'm too chicken to bungee-jump.

Perhaps the coroner was unaware of this particular way of passing the time. It's pretty tragic. Somebody really needs to figure out a safer way to do it, something with built-in safety checks, like the doctor's method of preventing an ether-sniffing overdose as detailed in the book, The Cider House Rules.

Of course, if "accidentally killing yourself" is called "suicide" (it can't be homicide, since someone else would have to do the killing), then okay, I guess.

What ridiculous crap I'm talking about today.

So, I'm in a weird mood lately. I have no motivation to do anything. I don't want to get out of bed in the morning because sleeping and being cozy are just too nice. I don't want to clean up the dishes, shop, or leave the house. I want to go to bed and stay there, or sit and read, and eat things that are bad for me. I don't want to go through the trouble of washing veggies and cooking the stuff that's good for me.

Unless it's just sheer laziness on my part, I think it's midwinter blahs. We're almost at the solstice and I'm not getting much sunlight (the cloudy weather is NOT helping), and I never go outside anymore.

Two years ago in early December, it was 80 degrees. Sigh.

I'm hoping we can go to Florida to see MIL and Papa for a long weekend soon. That would be realllllllly nice.

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