Bright Side of Things...

I no longer feel like death on a cracker, but now I realize that I look like death on a cracker. I'm going to have to fix that sometime. Haha...when I figure out how I'll tell you. I'm sure there's a Jeanie in a magic bottle around here somewhere. *Lifts up the couch pillows* Nope, not there. Damn.
It has started. Husband is out working on his new job. At 7! He swore he'd be home by 7:30. We'll see, but I'm doubting. I'm still wondering whether or not this actually means he got a new job or whether he's just being used. *something just fell out of my fireplace and onto my carpet, that's odd* But I'll look on the bright side, maybe Tim is out with another woman. I'd be more than happy to let her do his laundry. :) Maybe she's got some sort of skill like carpentry or metal working. That would be cool. In reality though he's probably out with his new boss and then off to poker. Not that this is a problem. I like being home alone.
I'm here drowning in my thoughts. I feel like this is the first time in days I haven't been medicated and not in that oh so special way, but in that nausiated, toilet hugging way. If only I could take a deep breath I'd be healed. But then again, who really needs air, right?!!
What else, oh yea! My house is weird. Seriously. Weird. I tried to take a nap on the couch tonight but I couldn't shake the feeling that I had accidentally unlocked the wrong door and I was actually in someone else's house. I don't know why really. Probably due to the fact of my not so special medicated state being relieved and the furniture being rearranged. It's odd though sometimes to come into my house and have a seat on my furniture and look at my pictures on the wall. It all seems like someone else's. I halfway expect someone to walk in at any moment and escort me back to my box under the bridge which I've decorated with used aluminum cans I've found. Cause that's just me, in a house or in a box under the bridge there's no excuse not to be creative.