Ocean Size

It's just teasingly sunny out, it really doesn't mean it. It's waiting to fool me into thinking it's more than 32 degrees. Still, I can look out the window and imagine. Things seem better by default in the spring, plus I'll have better clothing options. As long as I don't keep getting fatter. The only good thing about my weightgain is that my breasts feel fuller, rounder... and dare I say they beg to spill forth out of my former "room to spare" bras? I find myself absentmindedly fondling my cleavage now that I have more cleavage to speak of. It's nice and warm and soft, yet firm. Yeah, I like boobs. Anyway, point is, that's the only plus of weight gain that I'm aware of. If I was like, 3 or 4 months preggers, then hey - I'd be looking pretty damn good. But I'm not.
I had weird dreams as usual over the weekend. There was this hotel, and there were different kinds of people, different parties on every floor. I was wanted by the men and the ladies, and even a tranny lurking in the bathroom that asked me if I wanted to take a bath together. I passed on that. Then I talked some nasty slutty talk to a Secret of My Success era Michael J. Fox in the elevator, trying shamelessly to get some of his action. Only part I remember, I had hiked my skirt up while lying on the floor in front of him with my hips raised. Subtle, yes. He didn't touch me, just stared at my cooch until the elevator stopped at his floor. Awesome.
I'm also having dreams that I'm supposed to work at my old job as well as my current one, and while it's nice that I'm needed by both places - I don't really fit in or do well at either and things inevitably get all fucked up. Maybe this will replace my "being back in highschool" recurring dream. Damn stupid unsexy recurring dreams.
Enough of my blargon-jargon for now.