That certainly didn't hurt, Perkins!

{{Susan}} Well-meaning questions when you don't want them are a pain.

My week has kind of sucked.

Car clamped. Hayfever worst I've ever had. Sick with some other kind of thing that makes my joints hurt and gives me twenty mouth ulcers at one and makes me sleep for twelve hours straight. Woman in work stalking me to talk about her affair with the boyfriend of another colleague, even though I've told her repeatedly I DO NOT WANT TO DISCUSS IT. And five minutes before I left work today I was informed of kind of a major fuck up I made a while ago.

In good news though, the managing director of our company organised a 'staff meeting' at the pub at three in the afternoon yesterday, which is nice. And the weather's been gorgeous. And all the stuff I'm complaining about is first worldy in the worst way, so.

At the moment, I am in love with California.

Let's see how long it lasts.

Who doesn't, Scrappy? These days I heart Mondays: KO, then House, then Mike Rowe. There are better things than that, but they are either not legal, or not as good one-handed.

A funny story from my massage appointment last night: I had not been to see our regular massage therapist for over a year, because the level of muscle tension I had was so much that getting a massage didn't really help anything. (As in, not only did I have spots that hurt when she applied any sort of pressure to them, but I would be sore and creaky for days after the massage.)

Pete, being Pete, nagged and nagged until I finally said "Okay, I'll go see Irene." Who, during the massage, commented that my back wasn't the usual piece of rock it had been in the past, and there didn't seem to be any areas that were so sore that I flinched away from her. After some more discussion, we came up with the theory that the anti-anxiety med I'm on has helped reduce the level of physical tension I was carrying around, in addition to the mental/emotional side. It was the most relaxing/enjoyable massage I've ever had.

(Sure, I have some bruising from the massage, but that's because I am a delicate flower and bruise freakishly easily, not because our massage therapist is a brute.)

Hooray for California!

I am in bizarro land today.

1st-and it's not just me; it's several people today-I keep feeling like it's Friday, which would be bad enough because of the disappointment I keep feeling everytime I realize it isn't, but also because it's making me disappointed that tomorrow is Friday, and that's no way to feel about Friday.

2nd, there is a huge thing going on in my circle of friends that is so jaw droppingly wrong I can't think about it for more than a few minutes before I have to think about something else or my brain will fall out. I literally gasp out loud everytime my mind stumbles on it during a moment of inactivity at work.

Sorry to hear about the crapload of crap, Jars.

I have just finished some home renovation. For as long as S has lived here, there's been this big, black, ugly set of shelves dividing the living room from the dining room, and generally collecting clutter and dust, blocking light, and unnecessarily breaking up the apartment.

S hated it when she first moved in, but grew to accept it. And for the three years I've been here, I've mostly hated it.

Well, thanks to some other cleaning, new furniture, and other rearrangements around the house, S has agreed to get rid of it. She's spent the last week or so pulling stuff off the shelves, and this morning, I finally knocked the damned thing apart.

We had a big apartment before. It's now cavernous. We both really like the new, open apartment.

Go Lisah! Say hi to Rehoboth for me.

2nd, there is a huge thing going on in my circle of friends that is so jaw droppingly wrong I can't think about it for more than a few minutes before I have to think about something else or my brain will fall out.

Okay, Tease! Now I'm dying to know what it is! I need distraction for this last part of the day. I'm totally scatterbrain Vacation Girl today.

Go Lisah! Say hi to Rehoboth for me.

Thanks, Sox! I will.