Blond = Me, Kernut the Blond
Lemming = A small, hamster-like rodent with suicidal tendencies, known for throwing themselves off cliffs for no apparent reason. I have lemmicidal tendencies.
Homicidal = Self explanatory. Does anyone know the statue of limitations for homicide? Why? No reason.
First, I apologize to you all for being MIA lately. I promise to finish replying to your comments and comment on your blogs as soon as I dig myself out from under my habitrail.
I’ve been in a serious funk for about a week. Just want to sleep all day. No energy, no motivation, and vacillating between feeling a tad homicidal or very depressed with lemmicidal tendencies. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me.
I’ve been eating super health, taking all my vitamins, and working towards Tim Ferriss’ The 4-hour Body’ diet. In a nutshell, it’s no sugar, dairy, carbs, fruit, etc. Pretty much no eating of anything that’s not meat or vegetable. Beans are ok.
It started with giving up sugar for Lent. I went three days without sugar before I wanted to punch some random bitch in a parking lot. Classy, I know. I’d given her a nice courtesy beep when she kept sitting at the green light. She had the nerve to bird-dog (see reference #4) me. Unlucky for her, we were going the same place. I said some things from my car, which she may or may not have heard, but she got my meaning. Probably from the “I’m gonna F you up” look on my face. Just a guess.
Thank goodness my senses returned and I grabbed a sugary protein bar before I ripped her piercings from her nose and lip.
Even after that incident, being the clueless lemming I am, it didn’t dawn on me maybe I shouldn’t continue with the hardcore diet plan. Mind you, I was still eating carbs, and a little gluten, but not much.
But not having sugar is not good for the blond lemming. She vacillates between homicide and depression.
After a morning at the track with Chickebone, we went to lunch. I had pasta, then I had a nap, and cookies. By the evening my usual happy and energetic self had returned. [By the way – Chickebone, the skinny bitch, has successfully worked the hardcore 4-hour body diet for about 6 weeks. She was a little homicidal, too, but I’m happy to say both Buffalo Wing (her husband), and the Chicklet (my nephew) survived her dieting.]
Now, back on the sugar, life looks great again. Of course, I’ve got a ton of stuff to do that I put off while I was lemmicidal and napping under my habitrail.
When I’m depressed I let all the little things look bigger.
My tax receipts are in neat piles all over my living room. They have been for over
a week two weeks.
Checkers, the love of my life, is slowly getting sicker before my eyes. It’s very hard to see someone you love, even a four-legged loved one, waste away before your eyes. But at the same time, I’m grateful I can be here for her.
And then there are the multiple tragedies in Japan. Not even my sci-fi horror movies could come up with a plot that includes many mega-quakes, tsunamis, FOUR critical nuclear power plants, and an exploding volcano. I’m usually able to remain detached in such tragedies, just praying for the people and sending positive energy. Somehow, this one is different. I do have some friends and family with relatives there, but I have no idea what’s going on with them. Maybe it’s the lack of sugar, but I feel completely helpless and sad for everyone. I can’t begin to imagine what they’re gong through. My heart goes out to everyone affected.
And I should stop complaining about my problems.
As the toxic nuclear clouds are expected to hit my area within approximately ten days of release, I am looking for some potassium iodide but the state (and world??) is out. I don’t suppose you’ve got any?
The Latest Sparks With Matches
It’s official – I’ve now blocked more guys on Match.com then I’ve met. Awesome. What gets someone blocked? Not taking a polite “no” for an answer, or just being downright angry, nasty and rude. Some men really don’t handle rejection well at all no matter how nice you are about it.
I only met one person while in my homicidal lemming phase (best for me and the potential matches). We’ll call him Old Yoga Guy. He was supposedly only 56, but he looked older than my father, who’s in his mid sixties. I had zero attraction to him in person. At the end of the coffee date I told him I just didn’t think we clicked in the conversation department (true). He, unfortunately, felt different and seemed kind of sad I didn’t feel the same. Well, I felt just awful after seeing the look on his sad face. But not enough to change my mind.
Coming up in the next week I have several first dates scheduled: Zen Biker Boy, Coast Guard Guy, and Hiker Guy. I will be eating sugar in preparation. We wouldn’t want them to meet the homicidal lemming.
In between posts you’ll find me commenting on my Facebook Page , which also links to my Twitter account. Also, links to new posts are automatically posted there as they are posted (gees, that’s a lousy sentence. Good thing I’m not doing this for a living. ) Feel free to join me there so you know if I’m still alive in between posts. *scampers off to find cookies*