Can't Keep My Eyes Open

I've probably refreshed my Yahoo! mail a record 1,000 times today and I didn't even get in till after 10. The gray is diffusing itself through the windows and into my brain. Even my typing is sluggish. I am the most current-events savvy I've ever been and I work for a newspaper. Indicative of the time I've spent futzing around news sites. Someone in the cube next to me is listening to that awful bunny rap that made the rounds online last Easter. You know the one I am talking about. Too tired to even slur out a comment. It's not like I didn't drink coffee this morning. I had 2 cups while I listened to that guy prattle on and on about Broadband's effect on Internet behavior and its pending sway with online advertising. Tell me something I haven't heard 100 times, please. But the eggs were good; really milky. Maybe that's what it is. I've gone into anaphylactic shock and this is the induced stupor. I'm too lazy to even hit return and make a new paragraph. I surprise myself that I am even capitalizing my words. I'll make this entry all stream of consciousness, just like James Joyce. I'll flow into my own private Finnegans Wake. Anyone ever heard of that convoluted "masterpiece" by Joyce? It took him 20 years to write and he believed it should take the reader just as long to soak it in. I bought it in high school, determined to make it a project to complete. Don't think I passed page 10, and those 10 pages were an exercise in pure gibberish fancy. Someone else just opened the bunny Easter card and they are all giggly about it. Now they are going to converse about how cute it is. Phone's ringing to distract me. It says 'Private', so I won't answer. It's LifeSource, to be sure. Stephanie told them once to stop calling me. They did for awhile, but now they're back. What if it's not them, though? What if it's some long-lost friend who's been trying me 3 times a day for the past month, trying to rekindle a relationship? What if it's a job offer? Something really exciting and far removed from my current day-to-day? Like ghost hunting. I'd love to be a ghost hunter. What a thrill. I miss the ghost(s) that lives in my last apartment. I hope their new tenant is treating them well. I think I am currently ghostless, though my interactive Edna doll has been unduly mouthy lately. She speaks to me at the strangest times, the best being when my feet hit the floor first thing in the morning. I've asked her if there's anything she needs to tell me, not-so-secretly hoping she'll break from her script and divulge some cosmic secret to me simply because I asked nicely. Hasn't happened yet, but I will keep the discourse alive. (Stall in type.) Just refreshed my Yahoo! again. Nothing. Well, not nothing. PalmerCash wants me to buy another witty t-shirt from them. Maybe I will. Not today. Yahoo! 360 is currently being previewed with select Yahoo! faves. I have requested an invite myself, but sit like a wallflower waiting for them to ask me to dance. Can't be too disappointed, they are about to up my email space to 1G at the end of April. How nice of them. Keeping up the the Googles. I never did get an invite from Google for GMail. I wonder if it got lost in the (e) mail. I could feel slighted there, too, as I have been down day one with the G, but I don't have the energy or inclination to feel too thwarted today. Just need sleep. (Stall in type.) Ew. Work email. Renee just came over and started cleaning her glasses on my fleece. I told her I had a special cloth just for glasses in my purse, but whatever gunk she was trying to ditch, she'd freed on my jacket by the time I could drip the words out. Woke me up a little bit at least- a visitor. I might start reading all my bulk mail to keep from nodding off. (Stall in type.) I just looked up "sleepy" under Google images and I got this one in particular that made me yawn and snuggle down in my Aeron a little further: http://www.big-p.com/var/storage/images-versioned/2117/1-eng-GB/sleepy_kitten1_wp1024.jpg. Now, don't make fun of me cause it's a picture of a kitten. I'm not one of those types, though I do go a little insane over dogs. I don't have any Anne Geddes shit posted at my desk, I don't forward mushy or God-related emails. Come to think of it, I really rarely forward emails at all, unless I am passing on specific and relevant information or showing a friend what jack-ass thing another friend said. I just thought the photo of the kitten was perfect because the tiny beast seemed so contently at rest. Plus, the lighting was just perfect for napping. I felt like I was in the room with the kitten and I was about to lie down to close my eyes. Maybe the kitten would've climbed up to nuzzle under my chin and soundtrack the nap with some deep, contented purring. That would be nice. PlamerCash didn't have anything I want. I wonder what eBay has. They are 10 years old now. Blows my mind a little. Can you say something blows your mind 'a little'? That's kind of a justaposition. So 10 years ago I was 19. 19. One more time. 19. I was in college. I was living in Bragaw with Jess. Good times, I tell you. Working at the Y, skipping class. Life was good. I could do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. Leave for NYC on a whim at 11pm on a Thursday night? Sure. I miss being able to do that, though even if I could now, there'd be no one else who could go with me. All my friends either have 9-5's or they're improvisers with no money to go anywhere. What a shitty standoff. So, what if I quit this job and forced myself to find something that is a better fit? What would be a better fit? Lots of things. We've already established ghost hunter as a forerunner. I remember taking a career placement test in 8th grade that was supposed to match your skills and interests to give you the perfect career. Talk show host was my #1 call. Gotta say they hit the nail on the head with that one. I wish I could remember anything else on the list. I think I saw #1 and focused on that fantasy, blurring out any other alternatives. I believe I would be very good at anything mechanical. Auto mechanics, namely. I like trying to figure out how things work. This like applies to people as well. I love staring at people and trying to imagine what they're thinking, what motivates them, what their biggest heartbreak was, what secret they are keeping, who they love, who they love and have not told, what they are like when no one is watching... I think the best way to see who someone really is is to catch them when they think no one is watching. It's 2:46pm and I just looked at a draft of this post. It's getting pretty lengthy. I think if I go another hour or 2 I'll have the beginnings of a novella. How long does a novella have to be, anyway? Hold please... Here's our answer on that one:

In English, a novella is a story mid-way—in length (30–40,000 words) and structural complexity—between a short story (500–15,000 words) and a novel (60,0000 words, minimum). A novella focuses upon a single chain of events with a psychologically surprising turning point, e.g. Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson; and Heart of Darkness, by Joseph Conrad.

I can't copy and paste this in current form, so I can't word count it in Word. I bet I can worm around that... 1,353. Only 28,647 to go. It's now 2:55pm. I think I need to get up and walk around. Maybe hit my Rice Krispie Treat early today. Maybe a nice sugar rush will fix things. I'll write until 3 even. Yes, I am that Monica Gellar, that OC. Needs to be even. Need to top off my gas at $15 even. $15.01 won't do, though I am working at embracing, nay, adoring perceived 'imperfections', as they are all over. I wouldn't say I am ridiculous about it, but sometimes I'll sacrifice time I don't have to match up, even out, smoothe over things that don't need the attention. A quirk, I suppose. Quirks are good. Who wants to be boring? Everyone's gotta have 'a thing', right? Or in my case, a host of them. One more minute. And just in time. My head hurts. Aleve and a RKT. Almost as good as a Goody's and a Coke. It's now 3- and the sun is out.