Just got back to the office from the doctor's office. That place is some kind of trip. I hate making an appointment becuase each time I need a doctor, I have to make a descent into HMO hell. I'm sitting in the waiting room, there is a woman to my left reading "Miracles in Motion" ok, but could she please read quitely to herself, no, she's one of those mumbling readers, cheese, read out loud or be silent, maybe she hopes to spread the word of God that way. Who knows?

In the next waiting room but certainly not out of hearing "Savannah" and "Sawyer" are with their mother waiting to see the pediatrician. It only takes thrity minutes of "Ring Around the Rosey" and "London Bridges" before their mother gets tired of all the noise they are making and starts yelling about "all the sick people who would like for it to be quiet". Yeah, and I'd rather hear "London Bridges" again than you trying to reason with a sick four year old. But then, I got the distinct impression that the four year old was the most mature person in that conversation.

I don't need to be saved. I don't have a ton of credit card bills or student loans. What I need is a country house in the Sussex region of England. Can you send me a dollar? Maybe I do need to be saved, from myself.

I had a lot of ideas of things I would like to post last night. Then I slept, and this morning I can't remember a one of them.

Ok, so it's Monday afternoon. I've consumed four Diet Cokes, half a box of thin mint Girl Scout cookies and a couple of tacos from Taco Bell. Trust me, it was way worse coming back up than it was going down.

What would life be like if I could just say to hell with personal hygenie, clean clothes and the microwave. I could live under a bridge, I wouldn;t have to have a job. I'd never have to clean my room, the city would eventually come along and do it for me, and well, shit, really can't depend on that because I live in Houston Texas and the government doesn't get around to doing shit before they want to make some lame assed bid for the Olympics.