It's now 70 degrees again in Dallas, and cold weather is nowhere to be seen in the forecast! Good, cause if it ain't bringing a snow day, I have no need for the cold weather. I've been wondering lately if I have seasonal affective disorder (SAD) lately, because I am so much happier now that the weather is warmer! (I don't really think I have seasonal affective disorder, because I think it's a crock, and it's even more hilarious that it's abbreviation is SAD. Actually, I think it's a normal human reaction to be affected by the weather. Only humans, who have separated themselves from nature to such an extent, would call being affected by the weather a disorder.)

But in any case, I am way happier in the warmer weather, and all I want to do is lay in my backyard on the hammock all day, and read. Preferably with my dog! Oh, I just can't wait till Spring Break and Summer, when I can live in shorts, flipflops and tshirts.

Somehow, despite knowing all along that I would have to return to work at some point, I am boondoggled to be back. My brain is in shock and can barely function under the strain of talking to people other than Aaron, Dwight, and BP. Yes, the latter two do count as people! Only in the good ways, not in the bad ways.

On one hand, I should be quite envious of people who seem so happy to be back and see all their work friends again, but on the other hand, I can't seem to get the energy up to do so. All I feel is an overwhelming sense of bewilderment--how can talking to some people ever compare to laying comfortably in bed, under thick, warm comforters, with a creature on each side of me keeping me warm as I read a badly written gothic novel and watch movies like The Town and Dinner for Schmucks? Yes, everything I did during my 4 day long break was encompassed in the previous run-on sentence.

I also decided (or rather, reaffirmed) the fact that in an alternate universe, in which I don't overthink every little thing, I would have a half sleeve tattoo and smoke American Spirits. I have an amazing idea for a half sleeve that I just can't stop thinking about. Unfortunatly, I also can't stop thinking about Hepatitis C and metal-based ink collecting in my lymph nodes...and my mom crying herself to sleep because of her hoodlum child. But in any case, my idea is--a depiction of the scene in Jane Eyre right before Jane and Mr. Rochester meet. Thornfield Hall looms in the distance, and Jane sits on a bench at the side of the road. Mr. Rochester, on horseback, and his dog (like a mythical Gytrash) running ahead, toward Jane. I even know exactly who I would want to do it.
So the dilemna is, if a half sleeve would increase my quality of life, should I mind that it may or may not decrease my quantity?