I can’t be the only one …

… who has noticed that amyloidosis comes up as a possible diagnosis on every single episode of House.

… who flips out when my period is 15 minutes late, which is almost a promise that I am pregnant, never-minding that I haven’t had sex since … ok, now I’m bummed out. Crap.

… who thinks that after having been on an antidepressant for about six months that I’ve had some sort of anxiety issue most of my life (I’m ok with that, mostly just thankful for the realization).

… who has a hard time letting go of the fact that online dating sucks because most of the people there are just fucking weird. Oh yeah – St Paul flaked on me (don’t be shocked, I wasn’t) and the Chef has been one big fat cricket chirp after spending what I perceived as a great afternoon/evening together. See? Douchebags.

… is anxious to hear from the company I interviewed with last week (in the town next to where St. Paul lives, which is a complete coincidence in relation to above bullet point). HR phone interview passed, in-person interview passed, online assessment status still pending, hopefully second interview coming down the pike, then (crossing fingers) to be followed by a job offer.

… who thinks that settling for a relationship with a man who doesn’t meet 100% of the criteria of being Prince Charming is ok, as long as he has most of the necessary characteristics.

… who gets annoyed that the beautiful new bra I bought that fit perfectly when I tried it on in the store stretched just enough in the first few hours I wore it that if I am not careful, a surprise visitor (in the form of a nipple) makes an appearance. Stupid boobs.

… who wants to kick the ass of whatever fool who kept ‘testing’ the fire alarms in the building where I work. I swear on my holy socks that I almost peed my pants three times today.

I just re-read that last bullet point, and am now going to take a hot-hot bubble bath and be glad that Monday is on its way out the door once again.