home of the enslaved and cowardly

Wort. His wort. Bought 150 x 300mg of St. John's Wort extract to see if something OTC can help me out. Made me feel good. Being proactive. Bought Starbucks all by myself. Also, when shopping online for Christmas gifts, I discovered a surprising amount of brown coffee mugs that referenced poop. Do a lot of people have to poop after drinking coffee? Can the caffeine (or something else?) act that fast as a laxative? Why is this the first time I have heard of this? I guess that's just what happens when you grow up in a tea-drinking household. We drink tea straight and coffee heavily doctored. The smell of coffee in office buildings has always seemed so sad to me.

is complete. From this...  (These are from the day of my GRE. I woke up 10 minutes before the test was scheduled to start and ran all the way to the testing center. Considered not even putting on proper undergarments for the time it would take. Half sprinted and half cried the whole way there. Properly crazy woman.) To this. With a beautiful (and strange because it's still soft) ponytail that will be donated to Pantene Beautiful Lengths. I would put the picture here, but it creeps out Old Man, so I imagine that it might make some people uncomfortable(?). Idekok. The haircut energized me a little. Hopefully, it might motivate me to lose some weight to match the style. I was a little bit afraid it would turn into a bad mom-cut, but it actually makes me feel childish.  Who knows? My brain is pretty much gone at this point from watching  Hellboy , Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters , Hellboy 2: The Golden Army , Love Actually , and Mulan ...

Broke a teapot lid and then my whole restraint left me. Worried in so many different directions right now, while still in a valley. If I try to count the total instances in my life where I can admit to falling into depression, I wonder if I should count the times I spent depressed in the last four years as separate cases? It feels to me that the overwhelming sadness does not start anew each time. It just comes back after a brief interlude with a kicking vengeance.  The more I even think about all of this, the deeper and more lost I feel. Sorry but I have too many real world things to attend to right now, so a list of my shortcomings will have to wait for the near future.

until the fat lady sings. And my god, I will sing. a la thornbird A spectacular finish. Not because I deserve a spectacle, but because I would like one. Sidenote: high-schooler little bro uses "hmu (hit me up)" and "af (as fuck)" in daily conversation. Pronounced "huh-moo" and "aff". As if I didn't already feel fucking irrelevant, now I get the added "young person claiming to be an old person" label. Tfti (hah! I had to look that one up).