Let's get that stupid post off the top of the page, shall we? I was freaking out a little bit last night about the Project, but I'm better now, so forget I ever wrote that, will you, my doves? Thank you. You know how I get sometimes.
Common Sense: Crazy as a loon.
Me: Oh, it's you.
CS: Hello, freakshow.
Me: What do you want now?
CS: I wanted you to get outside, it's a lovely day.
Me: Who are you, my mom? I'll go out later, I have stuff to do right now.
CS: I don't swear as much as your mom.
Me: Well, you have a point there.
CS: You know, I've been crunching some numbers…
Me: Oh god, I don't want to hear it.
CS: And we've got to make some cutbacks.
Me: We already live like MONKS. What more could we possibly cut back on?
CS: You know.
CS: If we're going to have three cats, we've got to make some more money, which isn't going to happen, OR we need to save more. And you've got a frivolous expense here.
Me: I don't want to hear it.
CS: Then I'll speak louder. WE HAVE TO SMOKE LESS.
Me: It's my ONLY VICE.
Me: Oh god, I need those to LIVE.
CS: Cigarettes and energy drinks. They've gotta go.
Me: You do realize that my mother is having a conniption of joy reading this, don't you?
CS: You don't have to STOP, but you've been smoking like a chimney, and it's got to slow the hell down.
CS: You have to cough, don't you.
CS: Oh let it out before your head explodes.
Me: CAFF COFF COFFCAAAAAAAAAFF COUGH GAG CHOKE WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE.
CS: You were saying?
Me: Maybe we need to cut back a little.
CS: A lot.
Me: Maybe we need to cut back a lot.
CS: Anyway, you don't want to smell like smoke in front of the cats, that's gross. AND you're not going to have time to sit on the porch all the time with two babies wreaking a path of destruction in your Howard Hughes-Joan Crawford Apartment of Freakish Cleaning. AND kitten food doesn't buy itself, AND your lungs are on the FLOOR now from that last cough, put them back where they belong RIGHT NOW.
Me: OKAY. We'll cut back on the smoking.
Me: And the energy drinks. No more of those. I'll just make coffee when I'm up late writing. Happy?
Me: I might as well live with the nuns. At least they can get pizza delivery.
CS: No delivery. No PIZZA. We're six pounds away from goal weight! When did we start talking about PIZZA?
Me: When you took my other addictions away, I got hungry.
CS: You are a hopeless addict. Go read a step or something.
Me: I HAVE NOTHING ELSE.
CS: You'll have kittens to snorgle so you can leave poor Lulu alone, she can barely breathe with all the affection you've been bathing her with. You'll be plenty busy, junkie. Let your unrestrained adoration of the evil felines be your drug. Less smoking. No energy drinks. More money for cat stuff. Understand?
Me: Crystal clear.
CS: I heard that.