"The Fry-man is not excited to see us."
"Well that's a mistake!"

Sorry...I'm watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force again and can't help quoting the Mooninites. Great, great characters.

Ahem.

So, it's been just over a week since the last post. In that time, there was three day weekend where I got little sleep. Yet it was such an incredible weekend, I'm still thinking about it. What happened? Again, I'm not going to say, since it's nobody's business. (And I'm sure that nobody really wants to hear about it.) All that needs to be said is that it was a weekend unlike I've ever had before, and I hope to be having many more of them.

Which begs the question: if everything is so hunky-dory (and it really, truly is *insert blissful sigh and goofy smile*), why the hell do I feel like I'm going to fuck it up? I can't explain it, either. (I seriously hope that expressing this fear isn't the first step to making it into a self-fulfilling prophecy.) But I can't help it. Not that I am so pessimistic that I think that it's inevitable. I just...it's a nagging feeling that creeps into me every now and then. I have this suspicion that internal mechanisms or external forces will just conspire to fuck up my good thing. I try not to dwell on these thoughts, and I'm hoping they dissipate with the passing of time, but... I don't know. Anxiety totally sucks ass. (If I may abandon eloquence for a second.)

In other news, the Super Bowl is this weekend, and I could not care less about it. I mean, I want to watch it, but my interest in the NFL playoffs have been low this year, especially because the Dolphins didn't make the post-season. For the record, I am pulling for the Buccaneers. Anyway, the Super Bowl party is at Carl's this weekend. Should be fun. I honestly think I enjoy the gatherings more than the games.

You know, it's been a while since I've nurtured the misanthrope within. Maybe that's what the anxiety is. Perhaps starting each day with a healthy dose of gleeful disdain for humanity would normalize my feelings. It would probably make me intolerable, sure, but I'd probably feel more like myself. Naaaahh...fuck that. If hating everyone (except Turtleface) places me anywhere near how I felt last summer, I'd just as soon leave it alone.

And finally: BIZARRO!