05/18/2003 - 10:27 p.m. | BEEing drunk on their plan, they lifted up the suuuuuun

A wholly unimpressive day. Woke up at 12:30 and then watched "The Osbournes" until I hated myself (pardon if this sounds familiar). I know I should hate the damn show, but I find it vastly entertaining. Ozzy's brain is off somewhere by Pluto, beaming back the occasionally signal now and then (mostly about burritos). Finally showered; my head was practically dripping with grease by this point. Then pretty much the rest of the day was me unpacking and reorganizing my room. Quite the task, but for some reason I like unpacking much more than I like packing, even though it seems like a lot more work. Just figuring out a place for everything is fun for me or something. Wow, I'm anal. Took a break now and then to help my parents move furniture and eat chicken. Now things are finally all cleaned up EXCEPT (this is a big except) I can't find any fucking pushpins (thumbtacks - sorry, I say "pushpins" all the time; I like the alliteration, I think). This pisses me off monumentally because it's all I have left to do (hang some stuff up on the walls and bulletin board), and it should be so simple, but I can't! If I were at school, I could walk to the gas station - or better yet, to Kyle's desk - and get some quick as that! He has loads! Here, though, I'm just screwed!

In retrospect, today was terribly boring and lame. I realize this, but I don't really feel it. I've kind of taken the hand fate has dealt me. That's a good philosophy; I hope it sticks with me. I'm starting work tomorrow, but it shouldn't be too bad. I'll have my music (I need more CD holders by the way - I've filled up three now), and I'm only working like 10 - 2 (dentist appointment), so I guess it's a good way to get things started. I'm interested to see how the meds are working tomorrow. If there's one place that breeds paranoia, it's the factory, so it'll be a good test to see how my thoughts progress tomorrow.

Sometimes I think everything I say is so boring and useless, and I get scared, so I kind of run away really quick. Don't be offended please. I don't find you boring; in some crazy way, I'm trying to save you the trouble of talking to me. It doesn't make sense, I know, but there's no use in me talking about. I always assume the best plan is to get away from everyone (so I know I'm not annoying them) and wait until I feel OK again.

I finally got why "The Soft Bulletin" is a hilarious title. Forgive me if I'm slow.