What It Feels Like For a Girl.

Every time I think of you
I feel shot right through
with a bow of gloom.
It's no problem of mine,
but it's a problem I find
living a life that I can't leave behind.
There's no sense in telling me
the wisdom of a fool won't set you free.
But that's the way that it goes
and it's what nobody knows
while every day my confusion grows.
Every time I see you falling
I get down on my knees and pray.
I'm waiting for that final moment
you'll say the words that I can't say.
I feel fine and I feel good
I'm feeling like nobody should.
Whenever I get this way
I just don't know what to say.
Why can't we be ourselves
like we were yesterday

I've been emotional since 3am this morning. PMS always catches me like some sort of masked avenger... takes me over and makes me seep sad. It also makes me remember at this very moment - as I sit here thinking how it makes me emotional and like I want to jump out of my own skin but I just can't figure out how to - I forgot to take my happy pill today.

Shit.

God help me if I ever have to take any form of anti-baby medication. I'd be barefoot and pregnant more often than I sneeze.

We have a racoon living in the atic. I have named him Rocky. I thought by being obvious I was being not obvious. Meh, it was worth a try. I have a feeling he has been there for quite some itme now. At least for the past 6 weeks. He sleeps directly above my head and at 5am I can hear him trying to dig his claws through the celing above me so he may tumble into my bed and bite my face off.

No, I'm not making this up. It's true, I swear. Ask my mum.

I've also given up on "Hands Im My Pocket" for "'Coon in the Atic". I was ready for a change.

So Canada Day weekend is upon us, and accompanying the high gas prices that I will now have to pay since driving to school is no longer a reason to get my daddy to buy my gas, comes me and work. Ah yes, spending two days out a three day weekend being bored out of my mind and couting down the minutes seems like it should provide for some interesting stories to tell my friends. I was thinking today what it might be like to have a job that I actually look forward to going to. Having a boss who's voice doesn't drill holes in my brain. Then I thought that maybe the only job that could fill that description is a house wife. Ah yes, a soccer mum in training. Dressing my kids in cute clothing, putting their hair up in little bows, sending them off to a pricey private school then spending the rest of my day baking pies and watching day time televsion.

It is rather scary that the part of my job I love the most is the cleaning and doing laundry part. I suppose because it provides me with something to do other than colour in a Barney colouring book (what colour is Barney again? "prune", "lilac" or "violet"?). I can't help it if I find a neat pile of clean laundry and stacks of clean dishes rewarding. They give me that warm fuzzy feeling that a fully coloured page never can.

But for now we will see how nursing pans out. Somewhere in the back of my mind I always feel like I am just filling time until I can get married and make babies.

Maybe taking an anti-baby medication won't be such a problem after all.