9:08 a.m. - April 02, 2004
How would I find out about being a courier or a mule, I think the term is, for drugs? I've heard it's good, quick money as long as one isn't caught. Of course, who would believe I'd ever willingly carry drugs, officer? Disheartening to see my balance dip so much so quickly, which means I have to work more hours to replenish for the next catastrophe that comes my way. Given that I have a new roof, new plumbing, new electrical, new windows and doors inside the house, and new landscaping, exterior plumbing, and a driveway outside, that leaves either my health or my vehicle for future grief. Let us hope it isn't a Double Whammy, eh?
But it's okay, because I wasn't planning on going to South America in the near future, anyway. I just like knowing I have the money and the travel guides as a teaser for future things to come, though allowing myself to get up and go proves more difficult than I like to admit. My universe is shrinking and time running out.
I'm beginning to understand why fat people stay fat; last night I dreamed I was in McDonald's. Yes, that's right. Never mind that I despise McD's and haven't eaten there in - so long ago even I can't recall - but in my dream I was eating french fries and what I think was an Egg McMuffin the size of a dinner plate. This morning I woke up with an intense desire for something salty and processed and handled by people who don't wash their hands often enough. If I knew where the closest McDonald's was, I'm certain I would have broken my longstanding rule without any reflection at all. Dream it, eat it: One's resolve is meaningless when attacked during sleep.
And damn it. I'm hungry. What the hell? I had my half-glass of orange juice and toast already.
My body's betraying me.