Your friends are all abuzz about you and some new hottie you’ve been spotted with. Let them wonder if there’s really something going on. You don’t have to kiss and tell-unless you really want to!Wha-t-t-t?? Where??? Who??? Me??? Yeah right. I’ve been communing with my couch for over two weeks now. Other then the occasional walk and night out with the arty types, I’ve been slowly sinking between the cushions in my couch and Guardcat may soon be eating creme wittee brulee. You know….since the love between you and your cat can only take a turn for the worst, if you don’t move for a while and you suddenly look like a pile of human Friskies.
I’ve actually been obsessed with two things the last two weeks….lottery tickets and sleeping, with sub-headings of weird dreams and an uncontrollable obsession with numbers. Where should I start? Well, since sleeping isn’t very interesting, unless its WHO you’re sleeping with, and its certainly not the hottie in my horoscope, we’ll go directly to lottery tickets. They’ve been calling my name.
Now even though I’m poor and getting poorer as we speak, I buy a lottery ticket every time I go to the grocery store. Its an obsession. The potential for free money and financial freedom. Why not?? Unfortunately I have monumentally bad luck and couldn’t win anything higher than $1 if God/Allah and Howie Mandell dumped all the lottery ticket machines in New York on my bed.
I mean I just can’t win. Its funny how that sorta parallels my life. The most I’ve ever won was $8. Woo! You should have seen me! I was jumping around like those idiots on “Deal or No Deal”. Although just for the record….I would only jump around on that show if I was near my honey bunny super stud Howie Mandell, not because I was going to pick the case with $1.00 in it. Ya got it?
Anyways, in the last week I’ve been having lottery tickets literally throwing themselves at me. First at the yuppie grocery store where I went to buy my $1. ticket and there it was….a $2. crossword lottery ticket just randomly laying in the tray. Eek! Was it a sign? Or was it that news show that films people in those what-will-they-do situations and then films them to see if they do the RIGHT thing? I’m always worried I won’t and then I’ll be on National Television talking to John Quiones and some nun from my Catholic school days will be sitting in some convent nursing home somewhere, shaking her head in utter shame, saying “I thought witty was better than that.”
So I took the “lost” lottery ticket over to the customer service counter, which obviously had cameras on it from ABC News too and asked if anyone had asked about a lost lottery ticket. At first they wanted me to just “leave it” in case someone came to claim it. I wasn’t born yesterday chickie! So finally the young girl asked around and nobody had been looking for it in the last 1.5 minutes so then it was now MINE….MINE….MINE!!!!!! Woo! Hoo! Was it a winner?
What do you think?
And then the next day I went over to the Village to do my laundry and then onto my favorite ice cream place and on the way back I saw something rather interesting in the trash by the pond. TEN FREAKIN’ LOTTERY TICKETS in the FREAKIN’ GARBAGE CAN!!!!!!!!!!! THE TWO DOLLAR ONES!!! OMG!!! And they were only partially scratched off. And they were calling to me. Really loud…”witty….witty….that economic stimulus check will barely cover all the money the government has taken away from you in food stamps this last month…scratch us…you could be a winner!!”
So there I was on the main street of our tony little Village, overflowing with SUVs and Porches, digging through a garbage can for half scratched off lottery tickets, mixed in with food wrappers and old diamond tiaras, mumbling something about Howie Mandell, I think. Talk about humiliating! Fortunately they were fairly clean, although I had to wash my hands about a hundred times before I folded my laundry back at the laundromat. But there they were…10 freakin’ lottery tickets for the taking!! I didn’t do anything with the tickets until I got home where I found one winner for $2! Woo! It paid for almost a load of laundry. Woo! Call CNN!
So why the obsession with numbers? I’m not really sure, because I’m really terrible with numbers. But I do like free things and money, so I do every little thing online to make money including surveys. Some surveys pay money. Others just offer you gifts. But this last week, one of my gifts arrived and for someone with OCD, it was like the funnest thing ever. A pedometer. It records number of steps. Like four steps from my bed to the bathroom. 8 steps to the fridge. 16 steps to the mailbox downstairs. 39 steps to the library across the street. The other day I went on a hike and recorded 5634 steps. I definitely needed a nap after that one.
And therein lies the other problem I’ve been having lately. Excessive napping and dreaming of strange dreams. Dreaming of having job interviews in seedy places with tall dark ceilings. Standing out by a street in a see through negligee kissing Married Guy with my tongue. And then having him trying to run me down with a car. I mean WTF? What does that mean? Am I trying to resolve strange things in my subconscious? Am I having anxiety about finding a job and having it turn out badly. Or is my next relationship going to end badly, by me getting run over by an SUV? Wouldn’t that be poetic justice, getting squashed by a Dodge Caravan.
So like any overtired, angsty artist type I had to check in on my biorhythms. Why? I had just read the blog of our local newscaster (who incidently lives in my neighborhood. I see him out running). And he had cut himself shaving, punctured his shin with a stick out in his yard and fallen when he was out running….all in the same day. His decision? Check his biorhythm chart. So see, I’m not so flaky. He’s a newscaster fercrissakes! So I went to check my biorhythms. And I’m so glad I did!
First of all I found out that I was 18,340 days old. No wonder I keep needing a nap. That’s almost as old as Larry King and his socks added together. And then I looked at the charts and graphs and most of them were under the normal line, as in bad.
It said: Your general well being is moderate. Tendency: Its getting better.
You are in very good physical shape. Instead of wasting it go for a walk or a jog.
Emotional: You can now see the light at the end of the tunnel. The time for self pity is over. There is only one more hurdle to pass.
Intellectual: You spend these days without any plan or aim. Also, your reactions leave much to be desired.
Holy crap, that’s my life exactly right now. All the couch sitting. Aimlessness. Window staring. Self pity. Oh, and thanks for pointing out that my reactions leave much to be desired, oh biorhythm goddess. See if I ever laugh at your stories about sMatch.com again.
In the end, however, I am somewhat buoyed by the light at the end of the tunnel thingie and also by the fact that I only have one more hurdle to leap. What it is? I have no idea. But dog-gone-it there’s only one left. I just wonder if that will require me getting off the couch and relinquishing my remote control for human contact. Can you imagine how scary that could be?
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