I had the hardest time getting up this morning. I went to sleep late. Yep. 10:45 pm. I need my sleep, little doggies. I need my lots and lots of sleep and I need it every day.

I left work early yesterday for to go to the drive-in movies last night but then we didn�t even go. We just hung around home, went for a walk, ate some supper, smoked some dope and tried watching that matrix movie (the second one) but it didn�t take.

Ooof. I�m a sleepy soldier.

This morning, lord, I about had a meltdown. Last night, just as I was falling to sleep, I had a dream that I watched a small white poodle get hit by a car. Oh man. Ugh. A horrible dream, graphic and awful. So this morning when all three dogs escaped and both Basho and Frankie were playing in the road (another dog was out there and there�s no calling these two back when they have such a distraction) and the cars kept coming so fast and nobody slowed down. I was hysterical, just about. I kept screaming for Jeff but he couldn�t hear me and I couldn�t leave them and I couldn�t get them safe and it was just awful. But then Jeff did hear me and he helped and Bash came and it was all fine. But it shook me up pretty bad. I remember I have to do something about this. Again.

I love Frankie. She�s so much less of a spaz now than she was before. She�s great. Peaches likes to chew on her. Cute cute cute. Jeff calls em tramps and whores and sluts. He should know. Boy�s one skankass bitch. Seriously.

I hate being at work. I know, I know, we all do. Blah.

Speaking of whiny babies, y�all should have heard me on the ride in today. I just whimpered over every thing. The coffee, Frankie�s dirty feet, my stupid hair. Jeff was a whiny baby too. �I�m so hungry!� he kept moaning. We�re both trying to do this low carbohydrate thing so that we aren�t so sleepy all the time�we�re just trying it for a week. But that fella likes his breakfast and these sissy balance bars just aren't cutting it for him, I think. Me, I love em, like I love all the sissified sissy things.

Oh man, listen to the heartbreaker I thought up for a broadway musical for me and Jeff to star in (because we sing so good, yeah, and because we're so good in front of an audience, uhuh, and because we just want to dance!): Every since I can remember I knew I was a girl trapped in a boy's body. At the tender age of 18, after years of cross-dressing and trying to pass as a girl, I cross gender lines forever and become: A WOMAN. I suddenly feel like myself for the first time and I meet a man and I fall in love. I know I have to tell him the truth about me, but I'm scared he'll go all crying game and barf. Finally, after many sleepless night spent wishing for his hot rocket bod, I tell him. He says, But darling I have something to tell you! I was a man trapped in a woman's body! Thanks to hormone therapy I grew this mustache! And they live happily ever after. Ta-da!

It's better when we act it out.

So yeah. Low-carbohydrate diet thing. I�m going sober for a week�no beers for me and Jeff doesn�t get any chocolate. I mean, me neither and he doesn�t get any beers either, but the hard part for me is beer and the hard part for him is sweets. Next stop, raw and living foods diet. No, I�m totally serious. I want, sometimes, to see how it�d feel to be perfectly healthy, like the peak of what I can be. I guess that means I�d have to quit smoking, eh? So maybe not anytime soon. In ten years I�ll try that raw and living foods thing.

Oliver is coming home for Christmas. Remember how bratty he was last year with the hotel room and the silent treatment and such? Remember how he said he�d never come home for Christmas again and how he disowned me? That�s all done now. He�s coming home, I helped him find cheap tickets, and he�s bringing his special lady friend. Her name is Ilana. I am dang curious to see what kind of woman lives with the likes of OLIVER. Oh shoot, I know, I�m a mean old woman.

P.S. Skankass BITCH, I swear. Cute, though.