My Week

Sometimes a blog is quite a chore. Especially when you realize there are actual, live people reading it.

Here's a rundown of the recent happenings in my life. My days are spent changing diapers and picking up train sets so when I get home, all I want to do is smoke cigarettes and drink heavily. Which I do. All in moderation, of course. And then sometimes I tweet. And sometimes I check Facebook pictures to see who has a new baby. Or who is expecting. Or who is now in a relationship. Sometimes I de-friend people for the heck of it. Sometimes, I harass my neighbors about their incredibly poor parking job on our cramped street. Sometimes I secretly curse my lazy mailman who can't walk up five steps to put our mail in the actual mailbox. Sometimes I go to the park and push an empty swing and pretend to talk to a non-existent baby in the swing. I'm hoping one day someone will see me and call a psychiatric institution. I've always wanted to see what those were like. Sometimes I walk to the underpass and swap stories with the men who live under the bridge. Sometimes I lie down in traffic to see if anyone will stop. Sometimes I see how many cotton balls I can shove in my mouth. Sometimes I sing ridiculous children's songs at the top of my lungs. Sometimes I think about calling the cops on my neighbor who lives downstairs who smokes weed in his apartment and possibly deals. Sometimes I pretend I'm paralyzed and crawl around the apartment on my elbows.

And sometimes, sometimes, I sit up late at night and think of ridiculous things to write on my blog. But only sometimes.