Remember the other day when I declared this a good week and didn't care whether or not I was jinxing myself? Yeah, I'm an idiot (no surprise) because I think I did jinx myself and I got a little jinx on everyone else I know, too. Almost everyone I have come into contact with is complaining about not being able to sleep. Myself included. I'm sorry!
I'm afraid Heidi has had it the worst, though. She was in such extreme pain yesterday because of her KIDNEY STONES (Joey? Friends? Anyone?) that she couldn't go to the concert with me. I mean, it worked out well for my sister, because she got to go, but I'm guessing that is little consolation to Heidi. And, I'm sorry to say, that since Heidi was going to be my accomplice in the Get John Mayer Away From Jessica Plan, I did not get a chance to have a Very Serious Conversation with him. She didn't know she was my accomplice (I couldn't risk her going to the authorities) but SHE WAS. So, I'm sorry. John is still trapped by that waxy, blonde bimbo and her magical vagina, which must transport people to the land of Narnia or something. Seriously. Why do men like her? Am I missing something? Besides a penis?
ANYWAY. Don't you worry about Heidi, because I made up a sweet, get-well-soon basket. I hope she doesn't read this before she gets home tonight. HEIDI IF YOU ARE READING THIS . . . UM, STOP READING AND GO AWAY. SERIOUSLY.
I'm kind of jealous of the basket, because there are coloring books and crayons in it. Lucky! Would it be rude to color a picture before she gets home? Yes? Ok. Good talk. There is also a recorder. A recorder! And it was less than a dollar! I might go back tomorrow to get one for myself.
Oh. Today after work I went out to my car and saw my rearview mirror lying in my passenger seat. Which is weird because I rarely leave my rearview mirror in any of my car seats, passenger or not. So, while I was shopping for goodies for Heidi, I bought some rearview mirror glue. The cashier lady (man? I really couldn't tell) almost didn't give it to me, until I proved that I was over 18, which is retarded because why are people over 18 allowed to huff glue but people under 18 aren't? I mean, I can drive a car (theoretically) so you'd think there'd be more restrictions on me purchasing something like that than a 14-year-old who only has to take an Algebra test tomorrow. Because seriously. How hard is Algebra? More importantly, can you kill someone with Algebra? Geometry, maybe, because you could whip a protractor at someone and slice their neck open, but Algebra? Come on, Algebra is like Geometry's bitch. My car, however, can easily be used as a murder weapon. Do not make me demonstrate. Again.
Perhaps the most frightening thing I saw during my trip to the store was in the parking lot. I was walking behind an old man and noticed, TO MY HORROR, that his shorts were slipping down. Luckily, he noticed too and hiked them up but not before I saw that he was wearing PURPLE, LACY UNDERWEAR. I'm not making this up! I wish I were! My only regret (other than actually witnessing this atrocity) was that no one else was around to corroborate my story.
Right now I am waiting for my computer to explode or Phoebe to take a giant crap in my purse or something equally bad and disgusting but I can't complain. After all, as I said above, I brought this on myself.