Since I Have Nothing Else To Do

See, the problem now is that I'm at work; my job requires the IQ of a carrot.  I don't have internet at home.  I get more than a daily dose here.  I play on pogo.com all freakin' day.  I also have a facebook account.  Alas my job blocks it.  Something about employees wasting time.  But I couldn't just let my mafia die, now could I?  The DaVinci has taken over my account.  He logs in several times a day to do everything.  Sometimes he calls to notify if so-and-so wants to be my friend.  I don't know most of the people he has agreed to.  It's okay, though.  I don't talk to most of the people I do know anyway.
A goofy side effect is that when I have to play the social wife, the other women talk about shit they sent me.  What's sad?  I can follow the score without watching the game.  They talk about their kids- I am childless, so I compare them to my dogs.  I like dogs more.  They talk about their husbands.  Since mine seems to be the only honest one in the group, I already know the story (sometimes in more detail than they).  They have no substance.  There's more to my life than TV and shopping.  Not a whole lot, but enough.
I'm not being harsh.  DaVinci and I watch very little TV.  Actually, besides sports and The Office, we don't watch anything but movies from netflix.  I lie.  I'm a sucker for the Canadian show The Weekend Guy.  But that's because I make my dogs dance to the theme song.  All I do anymore is read.  I read a lot.  I want to be a perpetual student, and study semiotics in postmodern fiction, and the absurdists.  I want to write short stories which get published shortly after my death as a compilation- only to be later recognized as non-fiction.
I'd also like to note that DaVinci and I are dirt-poor.  We both work, but to no avail.  I'm actually cancelling our health insurance so we can afford to insure a second car.  We also can't afford to see doctors when sick, because our insurance is so high.  We don't shop at Wal-Mart.  Haven't in years.  That's not expensive though.  We just don't shop.  He cooks.  He's actually a bit of a food snob.  And he cooks like one.
I'm applying to the local university.  I have a Bachelors in English, and now I want a Master's.  If I can survive that, I would like to go for a PhD.  The local school doesn't offer the program for a PhD... well, one does but it is expensive and I don't really want to stay in this city.  It haunts me.
I know I am rambling.  I'm just a little nervous.  I can't cry at work.  I cut my leg in the parking lot.  I only went out for a cigarette.  But it hurts so bad.  Cutting is bad.  And DaVinci says I can't do it anymore.  But like I said this morning, I'm fat and he's not touching me anyway.