I'm just waiting to be told I have to shovel snow

The holiday season is finally over. No more terrible Christmas songs on the radio. I guess that's what I'm most excited about. I had the usual Christmas day with the family, that consists of waking up early (10), opening presents, eating breakfast, sitting around the tv reading whatever new books I got (this year = Compliation of 2010's best graphic novels), while my brother naps, my dad watches sports, and my mom cooks. Then dinner, with the typical jokes from my dad relating to me not eating meat, and the whole "oh but those green beans were murdered!" Yep, those jokes never get old. Then we watch a movie...this years was 1982's "The Thing". Very appropriate as being stuck in the house all day (and today, thanks Blizzard), I secretley feel like someone in my house is an alien and (spoiler alert!) I will have to make the choice whether or not I should blow the house up to save the world.
But this was Molly's first Christmas. She ran around all day with her new presents and bones, and ended up a bit cranky by the evening. When she gets cranky, she just walks around whining, wanting to go outside every 2 minutes, only to come right back inside. She passed out during "The Thing" which is good, as she may have been distraught over the dog-alien creatures.
Today she's romping around the snow. She loves it as she can dig without getting yelled at. Molly looks beautiful out in the yard, with her gold coat contrasting against all the white.

So...like the isolation factor in "The Thing", I am going to be stuck in my house for a month with no job and no money. I figured I should try to set some goals, so I don't go stir-crazy, even though that very well could still happen.
GOALS:

1. Reread all the Harry Potter books.
2. Watch all 5 seasons of Daria, including the two movies.
3. Begin to study for the certification exam that one day I will probably have to take.
4. Play the Sims as much as I fuckin want to.
5. Attempt to find a job for next semester.
6. Visit Meg in CT at least once, even if it means I have to hitch hike.
7. Try not to spend all of the small amount of money I have.
8. Attempt to persuade my parents to send me to NYC to visit my cousin.
9. See Black Swan and True Grit
10. And most importantly...try really, really hard not to loose my mind.

I'm not good with goals. Most likley only a few will be accomplished, and they won't be the important ones like finding a job or studying.

But it's the idea that I set the goals that counts? I'm just going to go with that.

Random thought of the day: Who is Craig in craigslist?

Which is a shame, cause I like breakfast.

My brain literally feels like scrambled eggs. And there is no reason why. I did nothing today that overally stimulated my brain. Unless you count trying to get the DVR to let me watch Real Housewives of Beverley Hills.

Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Or maybe it's the fact I hang out with a puppy all day and I think I am going to permentaly start speaking "puppy talk" to regular people. My voice goes up about 10 octaves around dogs/animals/anything with fur. It's annoying and I literally can't help it. As if Molly can understand me any better if my voice is high-pitched.

She's funny though. She'll go in the backyard and start throwing around a stick and then chase it. I don't need to do anything, she is completley self sufficient in the catch-game. And if I do feel the need to get the stick, she runs around me in circles, making me dizzy until I give her a treat. Also, if I stare at her long enough, she'll make this funny noise...like a groan and then yelp at me. Occassionally, she'll punch me in the face. She might win at the stick game, but I'm the reinging champion of staring contests.

In other news, I've been getting back into the Sims. I didn't play for almost a year, cause I broke the disc, but recently I've acquired a new disc...so back to that. My mom thinks its sad, because I've been playing some version of the Sims since I was 12. And even before that, before the Sims was even made, I would draw a family on MS Paint and pretend they were moving and would act out their lives. And when I say "act out their lives", I would just run the eraser madly around them, pretending it was some terrible...thing...and then go in and fill in the spaces with a different color..."scaring" them, if you will.
That's...kind of weird.

But yeah, so the Sims was a fresh of breath air to that MS Paint family. But now that I think about it, there is a lot of "God complexes" relating to the Sims. I mean, the controller (me) is acting as a type of God, controlling the peoples every day actions. And when God (me) gets bored with the family, the people might just end up taking a dip in the new backyard pool, only to find the ladder being taken out. And we all know, there is no way you can get out of a pool without the damn ladder.
Or you know...the delete key. But there is zero fun in that. Because we all want ghosts haunting the shit out of the next owners. Even though in reality, if there was clearly a very, very visible cemetary in your backyard, would you really move into that house? Like...if you looked out your window, and saw a huge tombstone, would you be comfortable sleeping? Unless you were a ghost hunter and jizzed with excitment at the thought, I'm guessing no.

Random thought of the night: If you have glass eyes, do you still blink? And I'm talking two glass eyes. Clearly if you had only one, you would still blink with both eyes, unless you felt like having the most perfect wink known to man kind.

Because I love to sleep

I haven't had a blog since fucking high school. And that was usually just me posting song lyrics and trying to discuss boys in very non-chalent ways. The typical "I am dark and nobody understands me" teenage years (I have to admit though, that I still go through that phase when the timing is right/I have had too much to drink).

And inevitably, I'll delete this after I get bored and/or embarrassed.

But do you know what my biggest problem is?

I don't sleep at night.

Which is terrible, because sleeping is my hobby. It is my favorite thing to do. It is encouraged and healthy to go in a soft comfortable bed each night, freely and legally hallucinate and stay that way for hours. Its amazing.
But I do sleep. Usually in the afternoon. It's a sick cycle that I stay up til all hours of the night and then by the time the day comes along, I'm so damn tired, I have to take long, glorious naps. Last semester that was my schedule. Stay up til 3 in the morning, go to class at 8 am, come back to the apartment, eat lunch while watching Wife Swap and then take epic naps.

And this schedule has abrubtly ended because the semester is over and I'm on break at home. And you know what? My parents are very ANTI-NAP. They think there are many more important things to do, like clean my room/my car/the bathroom/the lawn.

So I expected that today - the first of many non-napping days ahead of me, I would be exhausted by the time I got home and would sleep like a baby.
NOPE. Here I am, wide awake at 3:19 am.
And at most I will sleep until 10 am tomorrow to be waken up in the most adorable way possible of my dog crying outside my door. And that's a max of 10 am, cause usually Molly finds her way upstairs much earlier. Which I don't mind, because it is the only PROPER way to wake up. I love Molly MORE then I love sleeping, because she is the only being in the world who is always excited to see me, no matter what I look like, what time of day it is, or how long its been. I can just go into the bathroom for a minute and come out and she will greet me like it's been years. I love her unconditionally.

So anyways. Here I am, awake with no possiblity of a nap tomorrow. Unless I'm stealth and sneak one in.

Random thought of the night: Is it possible to grow a third nipple?