what a pisser.

[phosfate]

Cascading panic attacks. My mouth tastes of tinfoil, and I actually screamed, "HANG UP!!!" into the open window of some moron in a mini-van with his cell phone glued to his ear. (To be fair, he had tried to kill me.) Is it the heat? Post-con letdown? More than anything, I would like to go to bed and hide among the plushies.

Hobby Lobby had stamp pads at half price, so I got one of those Color Box petal wheels Bonita was pimping to me last week. I love that they come apart into tiny separate pads, but apparently they're made with some special never-dry formula ink. Currently surfing in between memos to find out what I'm doing wrong.

Also bought Chomsky Sauron (the bear) a new scarf, since her old one carries bad memories of cybertardis' brutality. Also it's a better color on her, in a nifty aqua-and-blue tie dye. She's still milking Mom for sympathy, so F. [Fetus] Melkor Abram (her younger sibling) and I are enjoying some quality bonding time.

Dammit, WILL THESE DRUGS NEVER TAKE EFFECT??? FIX ME!!!

Sorry. Sorry. I'm okay.

Comments

[annlarimer.livejournal.com]

God, you make me so hot.

[cybertardis.livejournal.com]

It's the green skin and glowing orange eyes, isn't it?

--sah