I swear I'm not dead. Just my creativity is.
That and the fact that I've been working a lot.
Wow, my excuses sound lame. "I work." Wah--who doesn't? So really, I have no excuses. And I have thought of some journal entries, I just haven't put forth the effort to type them out in here. Because--ack! It's SO. MUCH. ENERGY. TO. TYPE.
What have I been doing instead of typing? Uh...not much. Although I will say that I made some orgasmic spaghetti sauce tonight. Well, techinically Prego made the sauce, but I added the beef, onions, green peppers and mushrooms. Oh, the mushrooms. Lots of mushrooms. Yummy mushrooms. And to think I used to hate them. Who hates mushrooms? Weird people do. At any rate, the sauce was amazing. And I realized that a full stomach is a sensation that I don't have much any more. What I usually have is an empty stomach pretending to be full.
"What, food? Nah, I ate a hot dog and half a dozen Cheetos four hours ago. I'm good. I think I won't eat for the rest of the day!!!" This is the train of thought I've been on. I'm a healthy one. I should put forth more of an effort to eat healthier, but that require energy and motivation. And lately all of that has been going into S-Mart. Blargh.
There is a light, though, if only for a small while. I head to Detroit to tear up the town with Joe on the 25th. Brokeback Mountain whaaat? Greek-town whaaat? Sheryl Crow whooo? It'll be fabulous times. And even more fabulous? On the 27th, Chicago won't know what hit when Hurricane Krissy-Joe (that sounds like a redneck name...) bounds into town courtesy of Amtrak. Heck yes! Three days and two nights of shopping, drinkin', dining and debauchery. And we're staying here! Wheee! A purple hotel! Downtown! Exclusive!!!
I need to go to sleep. My mom's coming tomorrow and as usual my apartment looks like a drunken herd of sheep tore through here.
Ciao, dahling!
~*Krissy*~