I knew there was something compelling about your apathy

Last night I decided I was going to start writing in a journal. So I did....and it went a little like this. This meaning what I write here, not this like I'm going to break into song. I also decided to make a list, cleverly titled "Things that make me happy." It sounds like the beginning to a second grade project. Next thing you know I'll be outlining my hand to draw a turkey (which is actually quite fun, don't knock it). Why am I so weird? Sometimes I think it's cute, but other times, it's a bit bothersome. Like lately I've been ridiculously obsessive. I've always checked my email way too often for the fact that I only get maybe 5 a day, not counting offers for breast enhancement and penis enlargement. But lately, it's like every few minutes I'm back to my yahoo. What am I expecting, really? I think the thing is, I try to imagine what other people are thinking. So if someone doesn't write me back, I come up with a reason, which is usually negative and usually involves them hating me. In reality, probably not even thinking about it. B/c, and it's sad to say this, but everything doesn't have to do with me. I do like to imagine that maybe on some level everyone is in love with me but b/c of their own issues they can't admit it. That most people find me endearing. But not an endearing clown.

I just held a baby and felt so effing awkward. Its head was just flopping around and I couldn't cradle it in the right position. Honestly, I wanted to hold it out like a football. Wait...that's not how you hold a football. Where did I get that? Anyway, no maternal instinct, that's my point. And now I smell like baby, you know that mixture of baby powder and spit up. Ick.

I want to make out with someone attractive. On a regular basis. Is that too much to ask?
R.