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Crazy Mel is Crazy.

Heated olive oil smells lovely, even if it is only microwaved rather than an indicator that I am cooking risotto something. I'm actually craving my risotto, but I'm afraid took cook it on my shitty stove for fear that I'd either set the thing on fire! or it would come out shitty because the stove heats unevenly. Maybe I'll invite myself over to dinner at the rents' this weekend in exchange for cooking...Quality plan, that.

And why the hell is it that I've been up since 4a, have only gotten maybe 10 hours of sleep in the last three days, and yet I'm not tired now? Fuck you, brain. It's the double-dose of Xanax for you, my friend!

(I need to go to the pharmacy sometime soon; I'm running low on one of my formulations of Xanax.

Yes, I have two.

Yes, it's ridiculous.

I know.

Oh, and no, I'm not taking anywhere near unsafe doses (and I'm resisting the lure of a beer). What kind of fool do you take me for?)

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