I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR ALL OF YOU.

SOON, MY LOVES. SOON.

I have had exactly one soft drink in the last 531 days, and I woke up today wanting a Diet Coke more than I have ever wanted anything in my entire life. While smoking and reading It Sucked, and then, I Cried by Heather B. Armstrong, she probably said DIET COKE at least ten times in one chapter, and I was sitting there thinking that I would throw away a year and a half without soda, even if it meant licking the left over off someone's teeth at that moment. I also woke up at 11:44am, which is some kind of record for me because I rarely sleep past nine. Now my entire day is thrown off-kilter.

Part of my...condition is that I do not sleep. Like, at all. When I say I don't sleep, I don't mean OH I ONLY GOT TWO HOURS OF SLEEP IN THE LAST TWO DAYS. No, I mean that even if I lay down as the sun is setting and wake up when it is rising and sleep all those hours, I do not actually SLEEP. It's the number one trigger of my bone-rattling anxiety. I am sleeping, but I'm not sleeping. My brain goes into this insane mode where I think about ALL THE THINGS I could be doing instead of sleeping, and thus, my brain never really goes to sleep. Instead, I think about organizing my yarn or using the scented markers that I just found or looking through all of my hair products.

I had this great plan that I would get up this morning and do all the crap that I should have done Monday and Tuesday, but when I woke up (and found my cell phone was dead for some inexplicable reason) and I finally managed to make my hands work to turn on my computer to see that it was GASP 11:44AM JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL, I realized that it is also cold and dreary outside. I haven't had any coffee or cigarettes, and it's damn near time for lunch, and I JUST DON'T WANT TO.

So even as I write this, I know I'm going to sit here in front of the television and knit and watch TNG, and I DON'T EVEN GIVE A FUCK. My Xmas-tree, now devoid of ornaments and lights, is still in the corner of the room, screaming at me in it's little French accent--because all inanimate objects have French accents in my brain--GEET OFF YOUR ASS! POOT ME AWAY, LAZEE BONES! I plan to sit here all day glaring right back at it and NOT putting it away.

Or I will cave under the pressure and face the unending stream of old people at the grocery store because I have no food, but mostly just to get away from the tree.

About six days ago marked the one year anniversary of the day that I was unceremoniously dumped by Some Boy I Knew. ME...DUMPED...by HIM. But today is the one-year anniversary of the day that I pulled myself together and decided to live instead of just giving up and going back to the bad place.

While I can't say that my life is any better since that day, it certainly isn't any worse, and for me, that is a first. Every year of the last decade or so has been pointedly worse than the year before, and this is the first time I can say that even though it was a completely crap year, it was better than the one before...CRAZY.

It's also sort of insane that in about five more days, SBIK will be back in my life in a very real way as he is being transferred back to our area for work. He and I have kept some sort of fake friendship up for the last year, but it's not what I would call a relationship. I'm very nervous about him being more present, but I can assure you that those feelings are gone. I finally got over my anger, and I wanted to have him as a friend even after what he did. He didn't just dump me. He destroyed dreams that we had created together. He took away a future that he helped me plan. HE KILLED OUR UNBORN CHILDREN.

If we weren't such good friends, I think I would hate him.

AHEM, I've also been...erm...celibate for nearly a year. This was my choice. After a period of my life where I went from virginal to practically Whore of Babylon, I decided that the best way to stop my brain from being absolutely CRAY CRAY was to stop those sort of shenanigans. Yes, I realize this was a stupid plan because sometimes the urge to, erm, practice made me so insane I could have eaten the floor tiles.

Speaking of...they are my floor tiles now. I mentioned a few months ago that my mom was moving away, and she did. I've been living alone since one week before my 29th birthday. I plan to live alone at least until I am 30, which HAHAHAHAHA IS SO CLOSE I WANT TO KILL MYSELF SO I NEVER GET THERE JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL. Living alone is...weird. For the first two months, I was convinced that there was someone living in my basement. I found out later that it was my sister BREAKING INTO MY HOUSE, but I digress. I still have anxiety that someone is waiting in my closet to attack me RIGHT as I am getting into the shower, but I think that's a natural fear, right? RIGHT?

I thought I had a point to this rambling when I started, but I'm watching "Star Trek: The Next Generation" from start to finish on Netflix, and freaking Bob Kelso from "Scrubs" just showed up and possibly got killed, so my brain is a little all over the place. I can't get over how much better the uniforms got as the show went on year after year, and I also can't believe how much I still want to bone Commander Riker.

He's just so...manly. I don't even like beards. Also, Patrick Stewart...PHWOAR.

I'll try to make more sense next time. Oh, well, all the best intentions and all that.

After 11 months without sexytimes, I think I would even bone Lt. Worf.

Sarah and I made this for you to enjoy. Hopefully, enough of you like Game of Thrones. SHARE THIS EVERYWHERE.

So, all those plans I had for journaling every day in November? GONE. But I WILL TRY.

"We built this city on rock and roll"? SRSLY THAT IS THE HEADER FOR THIS QUESTION?

That's a fail. That's a WORST LYRICS EVER in a question about favorite lyrics FAIL. ROLL THE NEXT CLIP, STEVEN.

LOOK AT ME ACTUALLY ANSWERING COMMENTS. AND CHECKING MY FLIST. WHAT THE HELL, MAN? WHAT IS GOING ON?

NEW HEADER OF AWESOMENESS.

GO BASK IN ITS GREATNESS AND TREMBLE WITH LOVE AND ADIMIRATION

THIS HEADER PWNS ALL.

NOT GONNA LIE. I TOTALLY LOVED THE TB FINALE.

I've been MEH about the whole season because, predictably, it's been shit, but that finale. WHUUUUUUUT.

So, yeah, I'm feeling better, and my life is becoming stable and boring again, so I have time for this thing. This doesn't count as an update, but THAT SHIT IS COMING EVEN THOUGH I ALWAYS SAY THAT.