Oh dear, http://slack.as.I.wanna.be is not loading at this time. Snuggling? I don't even remember what that is. But then, SelfSabotagingAndDispair is my middle name.

It's not a real link. I just use to make joke urls all the time.
I would toast you if I wasn't half-assedly doing homework.

Drunkenly study or drunkenly make soup? Someone voice an opinion (although i guess this places is now deserted in the evenings).

I don't know. I'm only making cookies tonight. Coffee is my only intoxicating drink these days. And I gotta lay off it, I think.

I'm making soup and punishing myself. I have really got to pull it together. But not absolutely right now. Quite horrible, studying neuroscience and making chicken stew stuff, and yet it could be so much worse. Really. In the grand scheme of things, I'm barely debauched at all, and that saddens me a little, as my debauchery window closes on me.
I keep helping other people indulge in snuggling, but not myself besides in my own bed, which I do quite enjoy. (Not a great co-sleeper) Is there such a thing as a snuggling yenta?
Maybe I should just look up that woman at HBO and ditch the academia.

What kind of cookies? I find snickerdoodles are at their best warm from the oven, otherwise I don't recommend them. I make a chocolate chocolate cookie with a mix that reheats very well.

I keep forgetting how much I like cooking. So like alchemy and magic potions.
This double sided generativity is really amazing stuff. The kids know nothing, and everything is a new and exciting delight to them.
"Try hollandaise."
"OMFG!"
"Have some stew."
"Amazing!"
Now if only the penises would get out of the way.
Maybe it's me, but 20 yer old penis is just another immature penis.

I am only using penis because a friend of mine calls cock the c-word. he says there are two c-words. This cracks me up endlessly. According to "Black folks don't" this may be a thing.
I don't know about that but it just makes me want to say cock at him all day long.

They were tollhouse chocolate chip cookies. But they've been decimated. They lost the war. Now its time for me to snuggle in bed with a nice linux magazine.

Self sabotaging despair? I would love to share, but the voice in my head only talks to me.

But it is getting in the way?
I keep running up to the edge of getting in my own way. Just making life a little harder for no good reason.
The soup is delicious. The homework is doneish. The buzz is goneish.
And I lack contentment.
Oh well. And so it goes.