Still Pouting a Little...Long, pointless day...wasting time because I have a project to do that I hate doing—to wit, stuffing envelopes. I was supposed to start the process on Thursday, but I put it off until Friday, then put it off until Sunday, when I finally got the labeling portion of the task done because Caroline sat down with me and we just zoomed through it while we gossiped and chattered. Then today I was supposed to do the stuffing and stamping, but I pretty much just zoned in front of my computer in a sort of dazed manner, being pulled against my will to buy two more bracelets from HSN. Then I brought the whole mess home again and sat staring at the boxes of envelopes and stacks of stuffing, hating the whole idea of it. Then Shiloh came over and he, Grandmother, and I sat down together and stamped and stuffed the envelopes while playing the Alphabet Game with topics ranging from Movie Stars' First Names, Movie Stars' Last Names, Movie Stars with Double Monograms, Animals, Plants, Fattening Foods, Cities Not In America, etc.
The whole thing with envelope stuffing is that it's fine and fun to do with people, but unbearably tedious to do alone...and I always have trouble asking people to help me do things. Fortunately, most of my friends know me well enough to offer rather than waiting for me to ask. Otherwise nothing would ever get done.
Now that's over, and it's a huge load off and I'm unspeakably grateful to Shiloh and Grandmother and Caroline for the help...but something is missing. I still feel like something unpleasant is looming on the horizon, either before me or behind me. I'm still worn out from visiting Mother, and I'm suffering from allergies, but it seems more than that. I'm also terrifically horny, I keep seeing these cute guys all over the place and I just want to strip 'em down and start chewing on them right there in the drug store. It's like my body, from the medulla on down, just doesn't give a rat's ass that I want to be celibate.
So I guess it's time for some introspection. What's going on in my emotional life that is causing me to wallow in this vague malaise? It's not the Depression, that's an entirely different and more severe feeling...this is just an ephemeral sort of dissatisfaction, un peu de tristesse, a nagging inertia that I can't quite put my finger on.
Oh, well. Big Deal. Maybe I should do as Daisy suggests and go to my room and think about what I've done. I'll be pouting in the northwest corner if you need me.