Thoughts. I Have Them. I Guess.

I’ve noticed the more shit I have in my hands, the more stuff I’m lugging as I’m walking up to my door, the higher the odds that my keys are not in the pocket nearest my free hand. “Oh God, please” I’ll murmur as I wiggle my hand down into my pocket, balancing a box between my elbow and hip, 14 bags etc on my other side, “please let my keys be in THIS pocket...”

Sigh.

Gotta stop, put down the 300 fucking pounds of cargo I’m carrying, fish out my keys from my OTHER pocket and spend another 5 minutes cracking logorhythms to pick everything up again to make one trip. Every fucking time. FUCK!

XMASTIME PROVERB: The sun is always in my eyes, the wind is never at my back, my keys are always in the wrong pocket, and at this point I don't even know if a vagina goes in or out.

PS - I had at first typed "woman's vagina." ha!

PPS - I just used "vagina" and "in or out" in a sentence.

PPPS - My life is a tiny, black, empty kernel of nothingness and sometimes I wish I had the guts to get a gun, stick it in my eye and spray my brains all over my ALF poster.

PPPPS - I have never stuck with my favorite Friends girl for very long; I've gone from Monica to Rachel back to Monica to Phoebe to swearing off Monica forever to Rachel to Phoebe to Rachel to Phoebe for a good two years then back to Rachel then catching myself before letting Monica back into my faux boudoir back to Rachel to Phoebe to Rachel to Phoebe to Rachel's Mom to Rachel to Rachel's Mom to Phoebe and now I think I'm gonna make a serious, adult effort to stick with Rachel from here on out. Time to grow up, goddammit