It feels like I've been punched in the throat. Not good, you guys. My body has that gross achy thing going on, too, and I may be delirious from a fever. Or maybe it's the assload of various medicine I took twenty minutes ago. Hmm.

So, yeah, I feel like shit right now. Woohoo!

Anyway, I did not know that Hollywood was making a biopic entitled Sylvia and Ted. I also did not know that Gwyneth Paltrow will be playing the part of Sylvia Plath. The reasons why this is wrong are as follows:

1) It's Gwyneth Paltrow.

2) Gwyneth Paltrow.

3) Gwyneth fucking Paltrow.

4) IT'S GWYNETH PALTROW.

This upsets me. Maybe the bulk of this anger comes from the fact that this movie even exists, but couldn't they have found someone who...well, someone who is not Gwyneth Paltrow? It just doesn't seem right that she's going to be Sylvia Plath. I don't care how good of an actor she is or how much she resembles Plath after a little dye and some fancy makeup tricks. She will still be "Gwyneth Paltrow as Sylvia Plath" and not just Sylvia Plath.

Anywho, how are things with you? Fine? That's good.

I baked some cookies Sunday night for Ms Vicky, but by the time I came home from work Monday night, there were only a few left. Out of, like, 30. Did I mention that Vicky fractured her kneecap and had to have surgery today to fix it? And I had told my family this? And I even set aside more than a dozen cookies for their consumption? Yeah.

I always joke about buying a safe for my food, but now I am not kidding. I'm going to get one of those giant fireproof ones with, like, a twenty digit combination and then I'm going to BURY IT. Because these people have bottomless stomachs and absolutely NO REMORSE. Christ.

Here's a bit of conversation from Sunday:

Molly- Is someone eating these cookies?

Mom- I just had one.

Dad- I'm not eating the cookies.

Brother- (grunts)

Three minutes later, I notice my mother hovering over the plate.

Molly- No more cookies! They're Vicky's! She needs those cookies!

Mom- OK, OK.

Two minutes later and the brother is crunching on something that sounds suspiciously like cookie....

Molly- Are you eating Vicky's cookies?

Brother- (grunts)

Molly- You are! Show me your hands!

Brother- (grunts)

Molly- Gluttony is a sin, little brother.

Brother- (grunts)

One minute later and I see my mother walking towards her bedroom with two cookies in her hand.

Molly- DUDE!

And that's about it. I give up. Let them eat the fucking cookies and see if I care. Right. I'll just double the recipe next time and get them to Vicky within three hours.

Well, the bright side to this is I know that they are some damn fine cookies.

Anyway, I have to sleep. Or try to, at least. I woke up at 4 in the morning today and ended up writing Jerkface an email. It was weird...I had a non-sexy dream about him and when I woke up, I really kinda missed him. Or something. Stupid non-sexy dreams.

And to bed I go.

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