Toys and Games I have discovered that the best way for me to be nutritious is to burn candles at work. It seems to help others, too. Except that the chicklet in the cube next me is toxic as hell, and I'm her new best friend for some reason. I collect people like her. Not intentionally. I think it's because I'm good at the art of pretending to listen and care. Ha ha! Lately, I've been smiling and laughing a lot which is making the hubby question whether I've been taking the Prozac, which I have. I think I'm just happy for the most part, because I really don't have anything to be upset about. So why not be happy? It makes people paranoid, and I'm all for entertainment value. I keep reaching for the jar candle like it's my bottle of water. Bad idea. Hee hee! And the rhumaetologist doesn't know what's wrong with me either. I have this history of "negative" test results when all of my symptoms point to a problem. Like thyroid, or rheumatoid (hey! I think I spelled it right that time!) Maybe I'm a hypchondirac at heart and I really want attention. Whatever. I remember that I always wanted a band-aid on me as a kid, and actually I was quite fascinated with tape and white glue. I was also fascinated by doors and little things that would open, like on a dollhouse or something, so maybe I'm just easily amused. Somedays I wouldn't mind playing with a Fischer-Price dollhouse or coloring or something like that. I'd actually rather play with toys. When are the halcyon days of my youth? Can't they be rewarded retroactively now? It stinks because both the hubby and I are playing the same computer game and we ony have the one computer now. Poop. When we used to have the two computers we could each play our own game, and we'd spend weekends like that. We're weird. I should load that game into my work computer so I canplay it here. Then I would get so locked up in the game I wouldn't check the email box like I'm supposed to be doing now.
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