if it doesn't pay in dividends,

then what good is bravery?
because it feels a lot like lunacy.

-sigh-

speaking of fear, I am pretty sure I have a hypoactive thyroid. or at least I exhibit the following symptoms during lecture: extreme fatigue, cold intolerance and accompanying numbness in the fingers, irritability that descends into apathy and depression, dulled mental processes, and slow speech. In addition, my hair was dry and falling out at an alarming rate this morning. It may have been the straightener, but one can never be too careful. The only thing keeping me from ringing up my doctor's office was [well, one, they've sort of cut me off from wellness visits] the lack of weight gain and absence of peripheral edema.

SO DO I HAVE HYPERTHYROIDISM?
kidding. no.
I don't sweat enough.

in other vaguely amusing news, I accidentally called a friend from high school, Zachariah, instead of my little brother, Joshua, the other day. (before you get too confused, one is called Gigantor in my phone and the other is called Giuseppe. ohh, that didn't elucidate things for you? have you met me once?)

'twas a happy accident. I feel I have half-convinced him to take a position in radio broadcasting if this whole paint-selling business doesn't pan out. I would love for him to be a man-Delilah, giving out terrible relationship advice and playing the worst songs ever released.

"you're having money troubles, are you? Quit buying crap and get a job. here's Kanye West's masterpiece, 'Gold Digger' on W-letter-letter-letter."
I'd stream that shit.
Stream because right now, he'd be broadcasting from rural Maryland, which I also find quite funny. I can't wait to get into another one of our epic fake arguments, so I can tell him to go hack in a spittoon, dress a deer, and/or fall in a ditch... which is probably his whole driveway.

I am such a good friend!