'Life of the Party'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I miss Suzi.
I miss y'all too. Just sat on my patio for a bit and was able to see bits of at least 3 different fireworks displays. Pretty cool.
Why does it seem like the more I unpack, the more boxes I have yet to go through? I had hoped to have a LOT more done by now, though I look at the stacks of empties and I know I must be making progress.
K-Bug will be here tomorrow afternoon and then mom shows up sometime on Monday.
It's too foggy in SF to bother to go up Tank Hill and watch fireworks tonight.
Good to know. I was feeling guilty for being lazy.
ETA: Also? I miss Suzi.
Word and word. Sigh.
The Boy and his brother blew shit up for about an hour tonight. It was loud and sparkly.
I still feel like crap, mentally.
What are the chances that it is a coincidence that this push happens not too long after they start their little at work prayer time?
this was something I wondered too.
I would think this, too, except the 2 shithead douchebags who told me that I wasn't working fast enough and I wasn't making enough changes are 2 of the most vocally opposed to all the religious shit that gets pulled. So I don't think that's a factor, honestly.
I don't mean to keep talking about it, but I just feel so crappy and blindsided and loserish and ashamed and angry.
The asshat bosses are the ones who should be ashamed. And I know you can't help what you feel. But please don't feed it; make sure the part of yourself that is under your control knows you have everything to be proud of and they are being unfair asshats.
We were going to go into SF- but didn't partly due to weather , partly due to shit DH is dealing with at work.almost glad to here the fog was that bad. though fireworks in fog -- priceless.We went to a neighbor's house instead, for food and maybe - just maybe too much wine.
Guess how many times I used the backspace.
no, I can't really tell you
I just watched the first episode of Little Mosque on the Prairie. Fun show.
I can't get to sleep. Too many distractions. I think I need to get one of those room-divider screens so that I can't see my computer or TV from my bed.
Ow. My knee is being weird. I can't find any way to lie down that doesn't pull some tendon in the wrong way.
Late night TV, however, is being very helpful. Just watched the last two episodes of A Different World. They started singing "End of the Road" as a goodbye song, and I started giggling, but then I remembered that it was 1993, and they meant it seriously.
I don't mean to keep talking about it, but I just feel so crappy and blindsided and loserish and ashamed and angry.
I SO get this. Really. I think that's perfectly normal and acceptable and any person in their right mind would probably react that way. So, know that. Hang in there, you.
I'm going to kill a certain little dog (not mine). He decided that 5:10 a.m. was a perfectly acceptable time to wake us all up. CBD and Molly are still upstairs sleeping, but Toto, Simon, and I are downstairs. And I'm guessing that there's not going to be anyone to talk to for a while, since it's the Saturday of a holiday weekend. Maybe I'll have to get work done. What a concept!
I was awake then, but I was still trying to pretend I could get back to sleep.
Well, I couldn't. I had a dog jumping on me, and I was trying to be a good girlfriend and not wake up the boy. He went to bed late.