The amazingly applicable "5 stages of grief"

I've decided today that the 5 stages of grief can be used for all situations, preferably for comedic effect. This all started when I was discussing with my mom what would have happened had I lawn-mowered my foot today, besides the fact that it would have sucked because I don't have health insurance. Mainly, I would have clenched my teeth, limped to the door silently, then said, very calmly, "Mom, I ran my foot over with the lawnmower." That's just how I deal with extreme pain. When I dislocated my shoulder, I acted like nothing had happened for the first twenty minutes. I, quite literally, tried to "walk it off". But anyway, that's how I deal with any sort of pain, except for menstrual cramps.

Of Pasta (which sounds really odd juxtaposed with that first paragraph, but it'll all make sense in the end, I promise! Or not.)

Today is one of those days I just want to curl up under the shower and cry for a while. Except that that would involve getting up off the sofa and my anti-abs hurt way too much for that, thanks to my overenthusiastic kickboxing teacher.

Really. I'm not drunk. I promise.

There was just a street cleaner on my street just now. A street cleaner. On a narrow little residential street in West Jordan with cars parked up both sides as a sort of half-barricade in case we need to go all Les Mis on the mayor for some reason.

It didn't even really clean the street. It just left a wet streak down the middle like a giant motorized slug.

I could have had a point, but that's been done before. So instead, I have a gorilla!

I have a guitar final in roughly two weeks that I'm in no way prepared for. I also have to actually paint some of my final project for watercolour by Saturday morning. I'm also behind thousands and thousands of words on my self-imposed writing goal for the month. So what have I spent my afternoon doing? Well, once I ran out of things to watch on hulu, I turned to Facebook, and was linked from there to hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com. I may never be the same. . . .

January Synopsis

14540 is the grand failure total of words for January, but I blame the fact that I was quite depressed for most of the month. I'm feeling a bit brighter this month, and getting a better idea of Captive (the 170,000 word novel of doom that I still have yet to finish), so I hope I'll actually start to catch up to my goal, and make up some for the bad last month. I can still do this! I just have to be more committed to it.

So far this month I've written around 6000 words. I'd have to triple that to reach my goal for today. I don't expect to get anything near that written today, but I hope a just adding a few more words a day can get me the distance. If I pretend I'm going for 100k like I did for NaNo and try for 3000 a day, I'll be in good shape!