fella boys/fella nervous

It's French Revolution cold today. I mean cruel, hopeless, painful cold today. And it seems as though I sprout a new pimple with personality every half-hour. It's dem cozzzmic hormone blues again.

And my pastor is sending emails about politics-
as the business men slowly get stoned-
yes we're enjoying the capricious Kansas weather-
I'm craving a purple snow-cone.

That was my Billy Joel impression. It needs work.

So much is on my mind, I don't know where to begin. Blame it on the 4th Step. I'm on a new one and it's the hardest so far. I still am often sick, but I don't get to have a "newcomer, she doesn't know any better" cop-out anymore. Eeek! I'm expected to be accountable and adultish. This whole process-thing is a bitch. I want to be better on my time and in my own way. And I don't want to take a nap during the ABC Soaps, I want to play with the Hot Wheel City. I'm not TIRED!!!
--tantrum complete--

Back in the grown-up world....things are as okay as I allow them to be. My sighs are less martyr-filled than before and my bills are paid. Huzzah!

The showroom at work smells like carnations and I look forward to the Savoy's Lobster Bisque later on this week.

Mr. Bolton- I highly recommend you read a blog that is more coherant than this one.