04.01.02 :: 10:12 am

I don't know what it was about last night's episode of Six Feet Under, but I had to call my mother when it was done because I had to tell her that I hoped she wouldn't feel like she was all alone when she got old, and that she wouldn't die alone, most importantly.

Yeah, I was bawling.

I have no idea.

I think I'm getting very sentimental around the time of my monthlies, so I was pretty much crying at everything last night.

But especially the sight of the mom on Six Feet Under looking at pictures of her kids when they were little and crying hysterically.

I just frantically wished that that would never be my mother.

Sad, really.

Now, onto Monday mundane things. Like repressing the urge to stuff my face with bagels and cream cheese.

This week, I do some slumber party shopping and clean the house, op to bottom.

"You're like the mom from 'Requiem for a Dream,' high on speed and cleaning like a maniac." - My Boy said this to me last night when I told him it was gross to wipe crusted vomit off the toilet seat with just a piece of toilet paper.

And I proceeded to Pine Sol the fuck out of the bathroom, much to his horror.

Well, whatever, he should probably thank his lucky stars he never has to clean that part of the house, since it is my secret obsession.

Fell asleep to the "Basket Case" DVD, which is such a sorely underrated comedy/horror movie.

And, also, watched two episodes of the first season of "OZ" and, I have to say, I know there are NOT that many good looking inmates all in one prison. Also, I don't think My Boy would survive fifteen minutes in a place like that. His ass would be everybody's.

We're just saying.

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