So much time and so little to do. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.

The half a pot of coffee I drank earlier has started to wear off, and thank goodness for that, because I was being far too productive for my own good, what with the vacuuming and the writing and whatnot. Alright, I didn't really do that much writing, but that's only because . . . yeah, I have no good reason.

But, you know, I gathered all the trash together, which I find exhausting. I haven't actually taken it out to the dumpster yet because I'm still in my pajamas (yes, I'm aware it's 1:30 in the afternoon) and CALL ME CRAZY, but I'm just not comfortable walking around the apartment complex in Strawberry Shortcake pajama pants. Not sure why.

Anyway, so my laptop and I are getting along really well. I think he/she needs a name, though. Suggestions? The best part about having a laptop now is that NOT ONLY can I spend half the weekend lounging around in bed reading, but I can also read the internet from bed. Heidi thinks I'm more obsessed with the internet than books, but I told her that, if given the choice, I'd give up the internet in a heartbeat. Sorry, guys. At Tamara's suggestion, Heidi is going to get this tattooed on her ass. I'm not sure why, but hopefully I'll have pictures to share soon. Only I hope not, because . . . yikes.

So now I'm sitting here contemplating whether I should crawl under the covers and finish my book or go outside for a run. I'm leaning toward the run, because I was out on the balcony earlier and it's so nice outside. I'm a little worried about the geese, though. You see, I like to run around the pond, but the geese are nesting and the boy geese are getting a little mean. I understand that they're only trying to protect their lady geese, but it's not like I'm poking around their eggs and trying to steal them. I don't even like goose eggs. I'm guessing here, since I've never actually HAD a goose egg. Do you think they're golden goose eggs, like in Willy Wonka? Oh wait. Those were swans. No, it was a goose, right? I need to brush up on my Wonka knowledge.

I think the run would be better for me. I need to get rid of all this nervous energy I have on account of I'M SEEING SPOON TONIGHT. At least, I'm supposed to see Spoon tonight. I'm excited, but mostly nervous since last year I was supposed to see them and they decided to go on SNL instead. Remember that? I almost cried. Don't you feel sorry for me?

I think in the back of my mind, I'm expecting to get down there and someone will come onstage and be like, "sorry, suckers, Spoon decided they'd rather take a nap on their tour bus than come inside and play for you all, so . . . go home." If this happens, obviously the only course of action will be for me to break onto their tour bus and kidnap them until they agree to play. Logic. Anyway, I hope to make the local news, but if I'm really lucky, maybe CNN. Fingers crossed!

just give the old dark side a try

I am not proud of this, but for the past three nights I've been in bed before 10 PM. Around 9:30, I give up on doing anything productive, put on my pajamas, crawl under the covers with a book and am asleep within the hour. Not restful sleep. Sleep full of dreams so vivid that I wake up wondering where I am, having been ripped away from somewhere else entirely, somewhere I'd rather stay, to be honest.

On Monday, I half-heartedly declared it WORST. DAY. EVER. Week, but my heart's not in it. Not even half my heart. Too many not-worst things have happened; good news from the doctor, secret projects, friends making plans to come visit. It's not a shitty week, really. It's just blah enough to make me wish it was over.

Dear Diary,

I've decided to pretend I am writing in a secret diary. No, I'm totally kidding. Do you realize what kind of stuff I would tell a secret diary? Well, think of what I tell you guys. Then times it by 100. I have no idea what that means, but I think it means my secret diary would be a lot like the insides of my brain and no one should have to deal with that but me. I have a hard enough time dealing with the insides of my brain all day every day.

Did you know you can listen to My Favorite Radio Station In The History Of Radio Stations online? Only I can't at work because the entire website is BLOCKED. BLOCKED just like Facebook and Myspace. OR YOUTUBE! I work for a bunch of FASCISTS!

I'm just kidding. Please don't fire me. But can I please please please listen to My Favorite Radio Station In The History Of Radio Stations? Please? I'll do (almost) anything! And admit it, you're getting sick of hearing the same CDs all the time.

Earlier today, I e-mailed Heidi and asked her to say something really mean to me so I would go to the gym tonight. And she did! It's only fair, I mean, I threaten to dump water on her head if she tries to stay home from the gym. It's true. It's happened twice, which is almost a pattern.

So. I haven't gone to the gym yet. I'm wearing my gym clothes. Red shorts! And a t-shirt! That says D.A.R.E. on it. Hahahahaha. D.A.R.E. It stands for don't drink or do drugs or something, only not those words because that doesn't make sense. Sometimes we would have D.A.R.E. programs in elementary school. The best one was at the end of the year, when Kettering cops would come in and hold a concert because they were a ROCK BAND called "The Coppers." Believe me, if you were in 4th grade you would totally think it was cool. Anyway. I fully intend to go to the gym in just a little while. The thing is, I just ate dinner and the last time I went to work out right after dinner I almost threw up all over the entire Cardio Cinema. Which I don't think they would like. BUT. I'll tell you one thing. If I go in there tonight and they are playing another sad movie (last night? Stepmom. STEPMOM! That looks weird. You can't really yell in italics), I am going to throw up just to prove a point and that point is don't show sad movies in the Cardio Cinema or Jennie will throw up on you.

Would you like proof that I am very simple and easily pleased? After dinner, I had a piece of bread with butter and grape jelly on it and I really don't think I could have been happier if you'd placed an entire cheesecake in front of me and told me it was from Jesus and it didn't have any calories. OK, that's a lie. I would have been happier with cheesecake. Also, everybody knows that the calories are the best part, even Jesus.

So much time and so little to do. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.

I have a problem with it being June already. Who do I see about that? God? Willy Wonka? Wizard of Oz? Who?

The Wizard of Oz was my favorite movie when I was little. My Aunt Karen used to baby-sit me all the time and she says I would come over and say, "Aunt Kawen, I want to watch Wizawd. Of. Oz." I guess a lot of people were scared of that movie when they were little because of the flying monkeys, but NOT ME. I loved it. In second grade we had to dress up as our favorite movie/literary character and I dressed up as Dorothy and my dad spray painted a pair of my shoes with RED GLITTER paint. I loved them. I wish I had a grown-up pair.

My other favorite movie was ET, which I guess a lot of kids were scared of, too. One of my friends actually SHIT HER PANTS once when faced with a lifesize statue of ET. She was like three, though, so don't think she did this last year or anything. Anyway, I loved ET and I'd walk around with my finger out all, "ET PHONE HOME." God, I must have been annoying. My Uncle John also taught me how to bang on my METAL highchair and shout, "I WANT FOOD! I WANT FOOD!" Why my parents never left me on the orphanage doorstep late one night, I'll never know.

Anyway, so it's June. And starting next weekend the month goes CRAZY with plans so I'm afraid I will never see my bed again. At least on the weekends, anyway. So, this weekend, I plan on either spending all my free time at the pool (meaning I need to find my pool pass unless I want to hop the fence . . . again) or in front of the TV playing Nintendo. Really, it depends on the weather.

Did you hear that, Willy Wonka? My weekend is in your hands.