My housekeeper just left and not more than a minute later I manage to propel Soma's cat food through the air along with her water. Over tired and undernourished I went to glance out the window at the tamale dealer who loudly started expelling his tamale laced propaganda to anyone within a 2 mile radius. I don't speak a word of Spanish but I've lived here long enough to know what hes saying. Fuck off, I think to myself as cat food particles smash against the back wall of my dining room. It occurs to me that Soma eats better and more frequently than I do. An ex-girlfriend got me in the habit of buying the most goddamn fru-fru cat food available. Allergen and gluten free and certified organic. I actually don't mind though. She is in perfect health and seems content to lay on the ledge by the window, sleep, and occasionally, she will try to assassinate my other cat.
I've been living of Starbucks for the last week. But I don't really care. I never really care about food. If you were to ever go to a restaurant with me it would be the most annoying 10 minutes of your life as I scanned and re-scanned the menu looking for anything that appealed to me and making fun of the other food as I did so. What makes it worse is that I'm a vegetarian, so my choices are already limited. Because of this, its very easy for me to get in the habit of eating nothing but instant oatmeal for a month straight, or living off Starbucks coffee and there selection of 'health' bars for weeks. I probably save a lot of money on groceries but I'm not exactly sure because it seems I'm always recharging my Starbucks card. So much so that one of the baristas actually pulled me to the side of the counter one day and told me I NEEDED to get the Starbucks platinum card, saying I spent enough to make it worth it. I normally would have shrugged this off with my usual expression of deliberation mixed with complete apathy, but it was his deadly serious nature and the WAY he said I needed it. His eyes wide with paranoia, as if not only my life but his life were depended on it.
I've been hiding out all week. Avoiding email (other than my cell's reminders), instant messaging and any other form of communication kept to a minimum so I could focus on finishing a project that has been very...challenging. But I did it. Sleeping in 2 or 3 hr shifts and working until I couldn't type another line of code or do another line of amp. I was even too tired to masturbate. It's pretty bad when you think of doing it as you lay down after being awake for 38 hours and fall asleep while attempting to do it. I foolishly set up a date for Tuesday night but that didn't work out and I'm actually glad it didn't.
I forgot about it but apparently I booked an appointment to get shot up with some botox and probably Rystalyne, Juvederm, or collagen tomorrow. I have no idea why I booked it with this doctor so far away when there are like ten thousand of these guys within the city limits. I like the fuller lip effect the Rystalyne or Juvederm give me but I wish it was permanent. I'm also planning to meet friends at the beach afterward which makes me nervous. It's California though, so I'm sure injection marks go well with tan lines.
I'm sleepy now.
