Wednesday, September 28, 2005

it's only anxiety if...okay yeah no it's pretty much just anxiety.

my apt. bldg. is...interesting. At one point I described the place as being only about one step up from a college dorm, and the neighbor I was talking to at the time came back to me a week alter & said, "You know, I was thinking about the whole college dorm thing, and yeah...we really are."

We've got :
Stoner Quota:
Two apts. are good for supply should I ever decide to take up that past time. Seriously, at Thanksgiving, one of them had a Thanksgiving tray of proper paraphenalia laid out prettily.
Heterosexuals:
1 het guy, 4 het girls
Homosexuals:
3 female (2 a married couple), 1 guy
Animals:
5 dogs, at least 13 cats
The Token Worrier:
that would be our single lesbian
The Crochety One:
that would be the woman that's older than all of us & has been known to call the Humane Society 'cause of the dogs
Instant Party Production Capacity:
while the people who pulled it off no longer live there, I literally once saw a kegger assemble in the space of 45 minutes one afternoon. True story.

Anyway, so that's actually just a smidgen of the plethora of personalities that can inhabit 10 apts. We're Melrose Place, only way less pretty, and less sex, and no pool to throw one another in as culmination of bitchy cat-fights. Actually, we don't have bitchy cat-fights. However, we're incredibly nosy, & it's possible that my neighbor stepped out of her apt. one morning to smoke only to have a couple of us congratuate her on the fact she got laid the night before, because we'd all seen her & her date go in, but no one came out. *g*

Lack of maturity: check!

Anyway, last night one of the married lesbians that lives in the studios up back was talking about Reiki & the practice of it, since she's a first level practitioner & all. Then she tells me that my dog's head is very, very busy. I think, of course it is - I mean, shit, when I leave the house every day my instructions are "Be good & don't blow anything up." That right there should tell you about my canine.

However, S went on to tell me that Zoey is slightly ADD & she's a worrier. Supposedly, my dog's brain is very very anxious. Which yeah great, now I'm looking at her & thinking, "What are you worrying about, huh?"

Because now I'm worried that the dog is worried. And theoretically, if animals pick up on our emotions, my being worried will only make her more worried, which will increase my anxiety, and you see how this is just an endless cycle of badness, right?

This just can't end well, people.
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In other news, I turned down a job today, and I think I have a dinner date next week.

Somehow, in the last four months I've gone from running like hell from the last job which was causing panic attacks involving projectile vomiting to a week where I had five different job possibilities, which I've knocked down to three.

Also I seem to be doing fairly well with the salon.com personals. The boys are actually literate, and not one profile that's e-mailed me has included the words "My agent..." -- which means it's already beating match.com hands down.

However, now I'm plagued by a fear that at the end of this I'm going to somehow end up unemployed...not to mention all those fun paranoias one gets when re-entering dating for the first time in a while, combined with the fact I have a pretty heavy extra cirricular activity list for freelance, school, and crew, I'm spending the day convinced I'm going to bomb out of everything and be a huge failure.

Oh, and I'm trying to buy a new (to me) car.

And I'm worried that the dog is worried.

On a bright note, I think this post has just displayed where the dog gets the worrying from.

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