Today was a bumpy day, a cactus patch of a day... that only makes sense if you have read yesterday's entry, but even then...

I am having frustrating mother issues. Namely mother of all embarrasingness (I don't want to go into it, it makes me grit my teeth and think violent thoughts) and also more general mother/argh! issues.

This morning she couldn't start the car, and I don't mean as in the car wouldn't start.

She turned the key but obviously wasn't doing it properly, and then started to panic about how it wouldn't start.

The woman is even better at jumping to wrong conclusions than I am. I suppose in our little gene pool it's practically a skill.

But meanwhile, I had to lean over and turn the engine on. I, the girl who has only started a car once and even then it was by accident as I was merely trying to turn on the battery thingy so I could listen to the radio. Versus the woman who could not do it, the woman who has had 20 + years of driving... erm... "experience".

Work was okay, although there was little sight of former-melty-hair-boy. I caught sight of his hair once, and another time he showed up almost next to me and freaked me out good.

Whenever I see him and he sees me I'm pretty sure my jaw half drops like I'm almost going to say something and then I snap it shut, very much in a fish-like manner. I forget which fish... kissing fish comes to mind although I suspect not for the right reasons.

It turns out, that last hour of work is slighlty less painful when I do it as if on speed. Much in the style of "speed bowling" (where you throw the ball very fast in a hot potato-esque manner even if the barrier thingy isn't up yet). Except for the part where I get all jumpy and I drop things before scanning them and then when I throw them towards the bag I miss.

But fun!

Yes, anyway. It causes me to have a new expression for when I'm losing it - "I'm missing the bag completely," my vaguely lame attempt at hitchhiker's guideness.

Because I really am not the sort of girl who knows where her towel is.

Ahem.

My poor little assignment (I have named him, "linggy") is crying out desperately for my attention. Like the good academic mother I am, I have been petting him on the head absentmindedly occasionally while focusing on my destructive net addiction, as well as other things (some of actual importance).

Oh yeah, I'm going to be great with kids.

Not that I'll ever have any.

I suppose this is time for that no one will ever want me rant but I lack the energy. Because I say it, and normal people say pffft because they think I am normal like them.

Sometimes I'll be above average, mainly I'll be below. But I'll never walk the line of "normal" in a straight manner.

And I'd give anything to do that just because I can't.

I'll always want what I can't have... we know this from past (read: boy) experience. Musical chairs, musical chairs, I only want to sit while I'm standing.

I'm feeling a bit shaken, I think I need to sit down.

Oh, right. Already am ... maybe I should sit closer to the ground or something. Some nice huddling in a corner and rocking back and forth would really go down a treat right about now.

I am as big/small a mess as everybody else, this I know.

If you think your problems are bigger or more painful or confusing than someone else's I have nothing to say to you except that I am going to have to hunt you down and bitchslap every last one of you (...sometimes myself included, we're all egocentric now and then). Life is hard, but it's pretty too when you let yourself enjoy it...

If you don't want to be where you are then stop being there. And don't make excuses, because it is as simple as that.

And I'm not directing this at you, so don't think it. Really it's for me. Egocentric time, remember? it's all about me... all... about...

Nothing.

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