Conehead the Barbarian

Hi. I think I've had a lot to write about lately, but can't seem to get to it. First of all, let's welcome Kylan Morley MacArthur to the world, born to Georgia Morley and Tim MacArthur on Sunday, July 3rd at 4:15pm, weighing in at a wee 6.5 pounds and measuring a mere 23 inches in length. Very sweet little man. I am Auntie Riel, yet again. All are healthy and happy and learning things each and every minute of each and every day.

So. Why do I not feel unbound joy as I thought I would? I feel guilty that my whole life hasn't stopped to revolve around this baby, though, having said that, it's not MY baby...but...I feel like a neglectful auntie, that I shouldn't be worried about my petty problems. But fuck it. I am. I am so anxiety ridden. I suppose that could be contributing heavily to my exhaustion. I don't know. I'm not very happy right now, but that's ok, right? I'm just going to let this be.

My cell phone is back on, for those of you who were starting to think it might never be. I gotta figure out a new plan, though, because this is too much money. I haven't been talking during the day, so maybe I can figure a way to continue that. It's so bloody tempting when I'm driving around all the time to chit chat the day away. On that note, I gotta stop driving for a living. It's starting to be too stressful. I'm working in the flower shop more often, which I like, except for the part where you start at 8am. That's a bit early for me. I'll just putter along and see how it goes.

I wonder what would perk me up? A lover. That'd go a long way. When would I find the time? Paul moving out of my basement, that would REALLY go a long way. I hope he says thank you or cleans the bathroom when he leaves, because I can draw a direct line from the time he moved in to my anxiety levels skyrocketing. I need my space back. And a full night's sleep. This morning again, his alarm at 6am, and he slept through not only the alarm, but my yelling at him to turn it off, forcing me to get out of my bed hours before I planned and smack him about to wake him up. Then I was too anxious and annoyed to get any good sleep after that. I may go mad with undersleptness. I think he's going in the next two days...oh, that'll be nice. I feel very claustrophobic. I don't like sharing my bathroom. I wonder if my next place I need to live alone again. Huh. I'm going to look into that. Maybe a sweet little bachelor with a garden. Nah, I'll miss having a proper kitchen and a place to entertain. Maybe.

I seem to be a bit directionless this week. Strange, though actually a relief, to be taking the week off from comedy. Just a nice break. Haven't gone to any shows, haven't booked any. Trying to learn to cut myself a little slack. Am going to try to get an agent, have to make a resume. Hate this part. Want to earn a living acting and writing. No more jobby jobs. One of these days.

I'm going to weed something.


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