toasty sunday

Ah... the wonders of freezing my butt off on one night, and sweating like crazy on another.

Work was interesting. I got around to sell. Which was weird. I like bossing people around. At least I'm nice about it.

My laundry basket is really full. I need to do laundry tomorrow. All day long. Do some homework too while I'm at it I guess.

Suppose I should get some of my crafting projects going too. So behind. Greeting cards, layouts, deck. No reason not to work on it.

I'm done buying stuff for my camera for a while. I got the polarizer filter tonight. That's the last thing I need. Not going to get another bag. I capped off the spending at $591.95. That's how much I've spent on my camera stuff. Now to pay it off for myself. I'm already about $22 bucks into it. It looks like it's going to take forever, but it really isn't. I just have to be careful on what I spend money on. I am becoming such a control freak, every penny counts. I think it's a good thing on a lot of levels. It could potentially be bad. But at least this is really curbing my impulse buying. I'm forming a good habit. I think.

Go workout? I'm a little behind.

I feel like I should be spending my time doing something meaningful. Or interesting. I can easily find things to do. I always end up asking myself, what does it mean? A lot of times it means nothing. It's like I'm waiting for something meaningful to happen. If that all makes sense. I guess I've been feeling a bit bleh lately. I used to be able to talk about anything and everything with a couple of people. Due to one reason or another, I don't anymore. I don't suppose I can make friends with people who are naive, bitchy, have a short attention span, or all of the above (note: I am in fact describing multiple people). I think I'm getting used to people dissapointing me. I'm not really all that surprised anymore. The interesting thing is, it happens more now then when I was younger. You would think it opposite. I suppose people lose brain cells as they get older. I enjoy my time alone. I like writing. I like writing so that nobody reads it. If they chance upon it they'll go... oh my lord, is that what she was thinking of me? Which doesn't really happen because I don't really mention anybody by name here, and they are all dense enough to not notice I'm talking about them. I think I'm safe in that way.

I don't know where my motivation went. I lost it a long time ago. I have a little bit of it once in a while. But nothing really holds my attention anymore. I guess I'm still looking.