well. look. not posting today has gotten me into all sorts of trouble. so let’s get on with the show.
i was supposed to send someone a link to my blog, and i was like “i’ll do it right after i post something new and exciting so they think i’m an up-to-the-minute-breaking-news kind of blogger.”
well, 5 hours later, still working on this post, and just received an embittered email professing outrage and disgust at my lack of link-sending generosity. man, it’s a hardknock life in the middle east, i tell you.
and also, i’ve regained enough self-absorption in the last hour to be able to blog about trivial things for a second while rockets and hellfire are raining down in other regions. i’m not proud of it.
but we have to talk about me for a second. i’m a little out of it. maybe it’s my sympathy pains with the world scene right now. but i am feeling very awkward. like when you spell a word too many times and it starts to look wrong. i can’t even walk two steps without feeling like maybe i messed up somewhere between planting foot 1 and foot 2 on the ground. everything is very difficult, very hollywood.
overanalysis is the name of the dance, so grab your partner, do-si-falldown.
couple reasons things are awry in aparna-world:
-my mom said that while i was gone for a week housesitting, she got hives because of my absence. this is usually a red flag in most relationships.
-i can’t stop sleeping. i wake up feeling like numnuts. seriously, my brain is a bowl full of mush. yesterday night found me running away from hoodlums and/or cats on the mean streets of bethesda.
-some drunk guy whose way of hitting on girls was elbowing them occasionally during dance songs.
-i was told poop jokes are not funny.
-i had to throw away some perfectly-good cottage cheese for less than heroic reasons.
it doesn’t make a convincing argument for itself, does it?
-i am wearing britney-esque lowrise jeans to work today. i look like a floozy. actually my whole outfit looks like a bad attempt at CSI: Saturday Night Clubbing edition. write some new material, hackparna.
since britney’s a mom now, are her jeans technically ‘mom jeans?’ hiyoooo…
-i missed moisturizing break today. when my cubemate puts nice floral-scented lotion on her hands and we are both temporarily transported to a magical smelling garden of soft enchantment.
the stuff that cubicle dreams smell of…
-i’m stuck in a bad post and i can’t get out. wait. gimmeasec.
ps: my little way of sticking it to the man? not washing apples before i eat ’em. i eat the stickers too.
this post is past its freshness date