All I wanted to do last night was...pick up some Chinese food on my way home & collapse on my couch. I ended up working late & I felt like someone had taken a bat to my head. Ever feel like it’s too much effort for your neck to actually hold up your head? That’s what I felt like. I could truly feel the nerves on both sides on my neck straining under the weight of what felt like my enormous lead filled balloon float of a head. I also had a river of stress traveling in a straight line from my ass to forever...directly up my spine. Let me just say...anyone who enjoys pain...is honestly a special kind of a fucked up idiot...you know...those people out there who misguidedly believe some shit about pain being closely linked to pleasure...so they go off & do foolish things like pierce their nipples...because...why the hell just enjoy the wonderful sensitive & sensual nature of such sweet spots...oh no...that would be too simple...they have to place a cold hard thing through them & experience pain...& I just don’t understand it...can anyone explain this to me?

OK, I lost my focus there for a sec. I was on my way home & every fiber of my being was calling for lo mein...so, I called Mr. Barry (because not only is he the owner of my favorite neighborhood Chinese restaurant...he’s also a lo mein god). I gave him my order & he asked me (as he always does) for my phone number. I racked my throbbing brain & came up with absolutely nothing. Did my number start with an 8...or was it a 3? Crap...what am I...in third grade...what was my number?! How can you forget something as basic as this? My over busy motherfucker of a day had knocked the info clear out of my cabeza. Mr. Barry...god that he is...understood my dilemma & gave me an order number of 89...which I was not about to forget.

I pulled my car into the restaurant’s lot...got out, dragged my tired ass up the stairs & through the door. I smiled at Mr. Barry & shouted...89! I also told him that I had brain damage. He smiled back at me...I’m sure he would have smiled back at me if I’d have said that I had just brutally killed his mother using my bare hands & a wok...his English just isn’t that good.

I drove home with the goodies & ate with solitary glee...I saved my leftovers for Hubby so he could have a late night snack after his night on the town with the boys...yeah...I know...ain’t I a peach?