there are no letters on my keyboard

i've worn them all away
and yet i find my self looking down
for what i have to say.

i dont know why im thinking in rhyme today, but i will spare you.

its been a while (staind song now playing in my head). i have been sick and busy. very sick and very busy, bad combo. i scored my self a five day weekend by catching some stomach thing. (the flu, a virus, whatever i dont care what it was im just happy im alive.) so i spent a good amount of time lamenting the things i needed to get done that i couldnt, and thinking about all the things that i have been neglecting and shouldnt. but first the wonderous things that have been happened these past 10 or so days in the wonderful life of drea ;)

nothing

that was quick

haha, its sad but i have a whole lot more ranting to do than just that

first there was valentines day, which as you well know is my favorite holiday. i blew off work to go home early and make chicken alfredo... and i got all dressed up and... he came home late and empty handed. (he said he was empty handed because he was afraid id be upset cause he was late, so hurried home so that he wouldnt be any later...) it didnt matter much because we were gonna spend the weekend in Colorado in the snow and the mountains and the forrest, I was sick as a dog from thursday on. i slept from thursday at 11:am till friday 12:pm, thats not including the time i had slept before i woke up on thursday. i dont think i have ever slept that long in my life.

i keep having these strange dreams that people are trying to kill me some of them have a reason (lindsey) some of them dont (my boss) and some of them are people i want to injure (Chris the Piss) but im beginning to get paranoid.

speaking of paranoia, i got pulled over yesterday for no reason. no, not like im saying theres no reason but really i was speeding or driving with expired tags, there was actually no reason. i was driving downtown, (i never go downtown anymore but thats a seperate rant) so i couldnt have been speeding cause i was hitting every fucking red light on central (and there are a lot of fucking red lights) my car is insured and registered, my tail lights all work. i asked the officer if there was a problem and he just asked for my licence registration and proof of insurance. he ran them all it took like 20 mins. isnt that illegal, dont they need a reason to pull you over? the bastards! i dont mind getting pulled over when i ask for it, speeding, erratic lane changes whatever, i figure im asking for it. but when i do nothing, the bastards!

speaking of bastards. i have not gotten my W-2 from olan mills yet. its almost march people i would like to do my taxes. (ok so i wouldnt like to, but kinda have to the whole death and taxes thing, whatever) so i went down there yesterday to see if i could talk to someone about getting it. i wound up intimidating this poor guy named brian and yelling at danny's voicemail for no reason, except that he wasnt there so he could call mary and get it for me, and didn't call when he said he would, but he never did when i worked there, why would he now. he finally called me back at like 8:00 last night and left a strange drunk sounding message on my voicemail, that had nothing to do with the damned W-2, and now im upset he has my number.

when i left i wanted to avoid the freeway cause i wanted to avoid the construction at coors (when are they supposed to finish that?) so i decided to take central ( i dont know what i was thinking) i drove down the road by lindseys, and then i turned down her road. i was going to stop and talk to her, but halfway down the road i realized i didn't really know what to say. i just kept going i didnt even look to see if her car was there. (which in retrospect is difficult cause its this bright red thing right off the road). i dont know i keep playing a million different imaginary conversations between the two of us in my head. they all begin with i miss being your friend, and end with im sorry and me walking away having accomplished nothing.

i keep trying to get over her, but shes like a virus theres always some remnant of a memory waiting to pop back up. i miss having someone who gets me, even when i dont want them to with just a glance a gesture a word, broken french, horrid spanish. the problem is as much as i miss her i know its all my fault and i truly believe she is better off without me. so by some strange combination of cowardice and valor, i stay away.

i hate moving. but im searching for an apartment as we speak because i would like to finaly unpack my shit, and have a place of at least semi permanance. i dont plan on living in it for too long, but i want my own place without the fear of it being sold out from underneath my feet.