Uh, yeah, still talking about zombies, sorry: Random Tuesday Thoughts


So, I'm taking time out from my busy schedule cataloguing of belly button lint to once again bring you Random Tuesday Thoughts. Ready? Randomize!

I'm mostly done freaking out about the impending zombie apocalypse, but I'm still a little jumpy and prone to eyeing up people's craniums in case I have to puncture them. I think I have to read something to replace this paranoia, so I'm finally - yes, FINALLY - going to succumb to the whole Twilight thing. Only because Fashionista just read it and I begged her pathetically to let me borrow it she is forcing it down my throat. So you either won't see me for a few days, or I'll be back here momentarily ranting about shit everyone else ranted about 8 months ago.

My son was kind enough to distract me from my zombie fears by projectile vomiting everywhere yesterday for no apparent reason. So now I'm worried about possible demonic possession.

I have this stabby head pain. It feels like something shooting straight THROUGH my head. I've had it before, and I went to the doctor to tell her I was probably having brain spasms (what? It's a muscle). She tried not to laugh and said it was most likely my back and neck muscles, and I should go for a massage. So I'll try that, but I'm pretty sure that THIS time it's brain-related.

Okay - I just realized that you all probably think I'm a complete spaz. I'm not, really, in real life I'm the "low-key" person. People have actually said things to me along the lines of, "Um, so...do you ever actually...y'know...REACT to anything?". Apparently I just do a better job of keeping these weird neuroses in my head. And now! New and improved! In blog form!

I'm still quietly seething about my boss ditching me today and making me lead a meeting that I was woefully uninformed on. I totally rocked, but that ISN'T THE POINT. The point is I didn't want to rock. I wanted to sit in the background and take notes. It's easier.

I think the stabby head pains are making me feel sorry for myself. Usually that's Alcohol's job.

Hubby just texted me to say someone at his work had a stroke and the ambulance just left. Um, okay, I'm done feeling sorry for myself now.

Unless the zombies show up. Then I reserve the right to throw a small pity party, shortly before being eaten.

Okay, okay, I'll stop.

Want to play? You know the deal - grab the fugly button (I need a new button for this - any design-y volunteers??), randomize, then come back and leave your link with Mr. Linky!

Happy Tuesday!