tavie.com

Why do I have to discover these things to obsess about at 3 in the morning when there's no one to talk to but my blog? I can't even call erin and ask her exactly how many CDs she lent me. Over a year ago. Maybe two. None of which I have listened to.

All I know is there's at least one missing because I'm certain there was a CD with a picture of Amy Poehler on the cover, and I ain't finding it.

And it's too late to call the Chief Suspect, who is sleeping in a hotel in Calgary right now, and ask her where she may possibly have moved any CDs that may have fallen out of my Box of Things To Never Ever Touch Ever.

Okay. Rationalize. There will be no finding any missing CDs tonight. They can't have left the apartment. Perhaps there are less missing than I think. Perhaps it's only the one. Which has to be in the apartment somewhere. Or available on eBay.

Reading these last posts in chronological order is like reading Diary of a Madman or something. Slow descent into lunacy. Jesus.

While I'm going insane, what the hell have they done to Nick@Nite? All these marathons of shows I have no interest in. What happened to my Holy Trinity? I need Balki. I need Mr Moore. I need Alex P Keaton. Is there nothing to distract me from my own madness?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:11 AM | shower me with attention