I would just like to say that I have officially been on Blogger for THREE years now! :-D Yay! This is Blogger and mine three year anniversary. Bravo for free speech and even freeer bitching and expressionism. This is one of the best things I have ever done for myself. :-) So, Happy Anniversary Blog. May we have three more glorious years together...

What is going on? Why am I a magnet for the wounded? Where is the signal I am sending off so that I can smash the damn thing? Maybe my life seems good to others so they think I have all the answers. Or, maybe people know I have been through alot and they can count on good advice. Or, then again, maybe people know that I am honest and trustworthy and I am the only person they can turn to. But I think this is all flattery. I am just as screwed up as the next person, if not more. I do NOT have all the answers. I am not God nor am I perfect (Which some will argue is one in the same thing.). I cannot solve everyone's problems when I have problems of my own that I have been carrying around with me since infancy. I just can't do it. I'm sorry. The sad thing is that I want to help, and when I don't I feel guilty and afraid I'm about to lose that friendship. I don't want to spurn people or shun them but they hound me so fast and so fiercely that I am left with no choice but to "escape" from them for the sake of myself. Others will read this and wonder what kind of friend I am. Some will think me not their friend at all but an enemy from unexpected territory.
What can I say? I'm sorry. I am only human.
Only that, and nothing more.

Oh my word. I am SO bored. SO incredibly bored. Blaaaahhhh boooorrrrddddooommm. Bordius Maximus. I am seriously sitting here contemplating hitting my head on my desk for fun. I am waiting, sadly to have that fun. You know when there's only five minutes or so until you get to go somewhere but those are the LONGEST five minutes of your day. It seems to me that in those five minutes you can clean your apartment, make a meal, eat that meal, clean out your purse, and change your outfit once - THAT'S how long it feels. Except, my purse and aparment are clean, I am waiting to go out to eat, and I like what I am wearing. Hence, boredom. An extreme sense of boredom. Maybe this bordom is laced with the fact that RIGHT now certain people have boarded a cruise ship and are eating lovely food amidst a beautiful ocean while I am left here to comtemplate hitting my head against this desk for fun. And I've come full circle. Woo.
All the more convincing of my five minute arguement is that I had time to bitch about all of this and STILL hit my head against the desk for fun. Neato.