Jilli, how are you doing?
Spike's Bitches 46: Don't I get a cookie?
[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.
Jilli, how are you doing?
Um, blank? Numb? Trying to accept that there's nothing I can do to fix things, so trying to concentrate on taking care of Dad and getting my ducks in a row to restart my day job on Monday?
I'm lurking around here because I love you people. And distraction is good.
And distraction is good.
*dangles keys* Look! Shiny! Something shiny!
Ooooh, shiny! Let me tell you, tumblr has been fantastic.
I've also discovered that my mild distaste for talking on the phone has gone through the roof right now. Mostly because I can't keep it together when I talk on the phone, and then I start crying. Email, texts, no problem. Phone calls with anyone other than my Dad? The meltdown fairy visits.
I hates the meltdown fairy. Sending you love and strength Jilli.
Jilli, did you see the pretty boots I posted a link to the other day to dustract you?
Mostly because I can't keep it together when I talk on the phone, and then I start crying.
This is why I don't understand why people are appalled by people who break up be e-mail. In the unlikely event that I ever have someone to break up with, I want the entire transaction to be by e-mail. Right after my divorce, back in ancient pre-internet era, my ex and I communicated entirely by calling each other's answering machine at times when only the machine would answer.
I wish there was anything I could do other than to wish health~ma to your mother, Jilli, and strength and coping to you, your dad and the Adorable One.
This video brightened my day.
Oooh, the mail brought a good thing! [link]