Quagmire. God that is such a strange word. Seriously. But I am. Lost in it, I mean. I'm seriously knee deep in crap right now. Moving Crap, Work Crap. And to top it all off, I don't have cable. Do you know it has been a week since I've seen an episode of Made or Gilmore Girls. I'm starting to twitch. I might have to be admitted to Betty Ford if those goes on much longer. I actually cracked a book last night. That's how deprived I am. I have had everyone, including my mother, tell me every juicy detail of the Academy Awards, which: Salt, meet Open Wound. I'm sure you'll become fast friends.
To top it all off, I haven't felt very writing inclined. I just feel drained of anything to say. Well, that's not exactly true. Fighting Nun and I have had fifteen-hundred conversations, most of which were funny (one of which involved us getting a mouse chouffeur which launched into a discussion of whether or not said mouse should be able to cuss at traffic. The Verdict? Absolutely.) and probably blog worthy but are now lost to the anals of time (heh, I just said anals) because I haven't (read: didn't) taken the time to write them down.
I feel constricted in the writing department right now, like there's so much that needs out of my system but that I can't concentrate on any one thing so nothing gets out. I do not know why. I've been sitting on a post about this awesome dream I had involving Apolo Anton Ohno and that shirtless volleyball scene in Top Gun where Val Kilmer and Tom Cruise are in Volleyball Match to the D-E-A-T-H which I haven't done anything with. Quite heartbreaking really. But rest assured, I'm trying.
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