Short Description for Diary Entry

i hate waiting for e-mail... wait, let me rephrase that, i hate waiting for one particular e-mail from one particular author with one particular pole shoved up his rear.

so, yes. hate. i'm using the word hate to describe my feelings. i really mean it. i took into account the whole 'hate is a strong word' phrase and i still mean it.

i have my e-mail set up as a woobie, a security blanket, a binkie. it feeds me information and random bull throughout the day. i get what i need to continue. i do fine without it when there is no computer, but i feel much better when i have a screen in front of me that has a little envelope in the bottom right corner every so often.

this binkie of mine is letting me down. the specific e-mail i need isn't arriving. so i have begun a list of reasons for its non-appearance:

• his motherboard is fried
• he is at home with a hangover of immense proportions
• he was bit by a vampire and is now one of the undead which doesn't allow for electronic communication in the daylight
• his apartment building lost power due to a large amount of snowfall
• he's out buying me 'let it be - naked'
• he doesn't want to e-mail me until he has made the final revision and consulted with his friends as to word choice
• he's one lame-ass punk who doesn't give a whooping funt what i feel or think

that's what i got so far. i'm sure that i will have this e-mail in a bit... then i will have to update my diary with what it says. i hate this soap opera poop.

yesterday it seemed that i might have pulled myself together, at least for a minute or two... well, that was probably just because i thought that there was hope that he might wake up and smell himself.

there is increasing proof to the contrary. grrrr....