ZZZZZ

I am tired. It's been a long week. But I can't sleep.

I hear my guy snoozing over there on the couch and I want to wing a shoe at his head. How dare he be able to fall asleep on a fence rail (practically. No, seriously, the dude can sleep anywhere. It's a gift.), while I sit here and go from one end of the internet to the other? BAH.

In other news, I have big grandiose plans to - whoa. The teevee is on behind me and one of those REEEEELLY LOWD commercials - you know, the ones that are like sixty decibels higher than all the rest - just came on and almost made me pee myself.

ANYway. Big grandiose plans to post an entry about my collection of graphic tees and exactly how childish I really am, but most of the tees require laundering and I won't be posting pictures of my lunch-stained clothing for your enjoyment. Look for that within the next few weeks. I KNOW. Got you on tenterhooks, don't I? I, too, would be breathless in anticipation.

Ah, me. Okay, this post is more or less a time-filler, but hey, at least you can see that I am still among the upright and ambulatory, so it's got that in its favor, right? Right.

Good night, Irene, good night.

Invader

You insidious, hateful monster, how I loathe you.

Slowly, slyly, you spread your tendrils and coils through her brain, taking from her first this small memory, then that one. Then you steal her sense of recent things, making her ask for reassurance in a small, frightened voice every few minutes that she is indeed who she is, she is where she is, and inquire timidly who all these people are.

Stealthily, you stretch out your fog-filled hands, taking more and more in greater and greater portions until she sits, silent, tiny in her favorite chair, eyes dark with the shadows you've cast over her mind and spirit. I see the child you've left behind in her eyes, without even the comfort of knowing she will soon understand how it all works, because from moment to moment she forgets even that she would like to understand.

And then your friend attrition joins in, adding first one small problem, then another, then piling on still more, until her frail little body can't handle either the causes or the cures.

Meanwhile, we all watch, and mourn, and wait for the moment when we will be sorrowing and rejoicing at the same time; sorrowing because we have lost a beloved and beautiful being from our lives, rejoicing because she has won free of your filthy, vile fingers.

Oh, yes, I loathe you. I hope they find the way to destroy you very soon. We aren't alone in our vigil, not by a long way, and the fact that so many others know exactly how this feels just enrages me more, fuels my hatred. The only consolation I have is in knowing that you will die when your host does, and so you taint even a clean grief.

Someday we will find a way to bar you out, you invading filth, and I hope I am alive to witness it.

I will be waiting and hoping for just that very thing.

What The Hell, Man

So I've been getting up early every day for weeks now, but until today I was able to sleep in on Saturdays and Sundays without a problem. Then, this morning, it was like one of those cartoons where the guy's eyelids roll back and go rat-a-tat-a-tat-a against his eyebrows like a pull-blind out of control, and good god, it's alive!

I don't know what to do with my bad self, either. I could clean the house, but then I'd wake everybody else up, and ... well... I kinda like the quiet. I could knit, but that seems like too much trouble.

I know! I will sit on my ass, drink a cup of coffee, and reread one of the Night Watch books by Terry Pratchett. I love Terry Pratchett. I love coffee. It's a plan!

Also on my list of things I've decided to do is to keep posting to this poor neglected blog whenever I can so that I don't feel the way I did when I remembered I had houseplants, only to take my watering can and walk over to two brown, dramatically slumped pots of twigs.

So yeah. I'm reading and drinking coffee as you read this (if you read this), and I kill houseplants. Edifying, right?

I KNOW.

Have a great Saturday!

Hey, Whoa.

I guess I suck more than a very sucky thing, because holy Bob, I haven't posted in... five months?

WAT.

Okay, it's not like I didn't look over in this direction from time to time and go, "Oh. Yeah. Blog. Right. That," but somehow the words were never there and life was just too... too life, and I was positive that all that would emerge would be one long primal whine.

You know what? I firmly believe that if there can be a primal scream then there can totally be a primal whine. So I'm leaving it. Nyah. And also neener.

And then I got another e-mail from someone I'd thought had forgotten me altogether, which sent me over here to Blawger, which led me to discover that I could fiddle-fuck with my template (always, if I'm honest, a MAJOR reason I liked blogging to start with) even more than I could before, and then I thought, "Hey! How long has it been since I posted... HOLY SHIT."

So here I am. I promise you nothing in the way of posts, because I am a busy bitch these days and come home most afternoons and fall into the sweet, sweet arms of nappytime. Or I knit. But mostly, I nap.

So. Those of you for whom hope springeth eternal and still check in on this sad and neglected space, how in the blue fuck are yez?