I�m quite popular this morning at the office, with my leftover treats from last night�s dinner. The women exclaim and moan with delight as they inhale the peach gallet (that�s gay for pie-cobbler-thingy). Dinner (the part that didn�t consist of mushrooms, asparagus or weird creamy sauce - I think they called it hollandaise) was delicious! And dessert, my GOD. Yummy! We had a good time, talking and watching M.s. cook. Wendy is a wonderful woman.

Ollie stopped by, showed off his new rock-a-billy hottie-boy �do�, and hung out for a bit, sampled the yumminess, shared in conversation. I do have a confession to make, though. At times, I was unbelievably bored. I don�t do well with lulls when I�m low on energy. Sitting, standing, doing nothing, idle conversation, watching someone go through the motions of preparing amazing dishes, I felt bored! I thought, I want to read. I want to watch TV. I want to write. I want to doodle, anything to keep my hands and mind occupied, focused, busy without having to do too much, without having to think too much. I want to be entertained. I wondered what that meant. Is it true what M.s. says? That I�m a victim of a generation�s short-attention span? Or was I just tired and sick and craving a horizontal position and a rest for my throat?

Once I was engaged and on a subject, it was wonderful, something I enjoy anyway and love to do, interact with others. But in those intermittent quiet moments, I desperately looked for an excuse to run away and hide under the covers. Me, not a people-person? Unheard of. Not really. Spider Monkey used to call these my �pensive moments� -- those times when we lived in L.A. and I would just have to disappear, be alone, not deal with any people. I haven�t really had many of those lately, perhaps because it�s easy and comfortable, like being alone is, with M.s. Anyway, just sharing the workings of my mind. Good or bad, it�s what went through my head at the time. According to Ollie, though, there IS NO Good or bad. I like that idea, for obvious reasons.

Dad gets home tonight. I have guilt over the shit-hole of a mess that our place is at this moment, but I need to get over it, he says it doesn�t matter. We�ll get everything done, so why feel that pressing, overwhelming feeling? I�m going to go home after my doctor�s appointment - oh, that�s right, I didn�t mention that. I�m dragging my ass to the doctor this afternoon, to make sure there�s not a fucking alien growing in my sinus cavities. So after the appointment, I�m going home and I�m going to sleep. None of this cleaning crap I told myself I�d do, no. Just sleep. Lay with my cats and zonk out until the Dad comes home.

That way, I�ll have plenty of energy for all the stuff I want to do this weekend. Man, I am HORMONAL.

-Barbarella

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