You know, I really do know my meds work for me. I know this because roughly fifteen hours after taking them, I can tell they are wearing off. I can literally feel my thought processes go muddy and dark, and emo. Or, in this insight I just had, it could be because my body and brain is trying to get me to stop being awake for eight hours. OOOH! It could be both! Dammit, I was hoping to be all emo, but now I'm just being silly. I apologise to everyone who clicked the Navelgazing link hoping to find something thought-provoking. I suppose I just forgot what I was going to say. C'est la vie. For me, at least. I'm not sure how random the rest of you are. Umm... I do have the basics of what I was gonna post about in my head, though... bear with me, since this would normally be much more polished had I written it when I thought of it instead of attempting to preface it. Anyway, here it is.
People worry about themselves too much. And nobody really worries about other people. I mean, sure, you probably worry about people, but do you ever put anyone else's well-being ahead of yours, on a regular basis? It's what I do. And, by my way of thinking, it's the best way to live. Because I know that I will be taken care of by people who worry about me.
That's not to say that I don't ever do things for myself, though. Far from it. I do stuff for me all the time. But, when given a choice between buying somebody lunch, or getting a toy
**we interrupt this posting with an important announcement**
I just got the strangest call. At 2358EST, the alarm company that my work uses called me to ask if we had closed for the night. It being nearly midnight, I was slightly confused, and told the nice woman on the line that our store had better be closed, or people would have some very difficult questions to answer in the morning. She responded that
**we interrupt this interruption for an unimportant announcement**
Gummi worms. I cannot say that they are my least favourite candy on earth. For that matter, I cannot even call them 'bad' or 'awful' or any other negative descriptor. In fact, I would have to rate gummi worms as one of my favourite confections on the planet. Especially when miked in with chocolate pudding and oreo cookies, you know, the worms in dirt snack? Anyway, I guess the
**and now for something completely different**
[Our scene begins in the examination room of a hospital. Sitting upon the examination table in a hospital gown sits a YOUNG MAN. Standing beside him and holding his hand is a CONCERNED GIRLFRIEND. The YM seems slightly irritated at his CG. There is a hushed argument, which stops abrubtly as the STEREOTYPICAL DOCTOR enters the room, carrying a clipboard.]
SD: *clears throat* So, Mr. Arnulfson, how are you feeling today?
YM: To be honest, Doctor, I'm rather annoyed. I've been poked, prodded, and had needles stuck in me, and I didn't even want to come in here. It's all her idea. *jerks head towards CG*
**we interrupt this little vignette to return you to our original post**
Aw, crap. I forget what I was writing about. Guess it wasn't that important, then.
Good night, everybody, and stay safe out there in Internet Land!