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tomorrow is today 2001-11-14 I wrote the following yesterday afternoon but couldn't post it because the D-Land server was down. So everything that says tomorrow is actually today now, and anything that says yesterday is Monday. I guess I don't need to explain that, since you are intelligent people, so never mind. More later today.... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I'm having a bad hair day today, and whenever that happens I just stick a barrette into the front of it, in an attempt to make it look purposely funky. But the sad fact is, it's just bad hair. I simply Must get it cut soon. Note to self. This is such a weird week here at work. Friday the administrative staff (this includes me) will be having our annual retreat. Translation: We're going to the boss's house to try and act important and busy, but really it will be just a boring waste of time. Hopefully this year we will not be forced to take the Myers-Briggs like we have Every Other Damn Year. Please, like I'm suddenly Not going to be an INTP. Like ANYone's personality will have changed since last year. If we're forced to do it again, I'm going to answer everything the opposite of what I really think, just for the variety. A good thing about the retreat this year is I get to leave at 3:00. Francisco will be gone to his conference, so I will have to get home to be with the Boy. God bless that Boy, let me tell you. Thursday afternoon we will have our annual Thanksgiving potluck. Thanksgiving, you say? Isn't that next week? Why yes; yes it is. But not everyone will be in the office next week, so we're doing it tomorrow. Potluck, you say? Not a lunch out? Yes; the office is too cheap to actually pay for us to have lunch somewhere, so we have to bring our own. Actually, I don't mind the potlucks, they're fun--I was just griping for no reason. The potlucks kind of shoot the whole day, though, because everyone bustles around cooking stuff all day, or talking about cooking, and whatnot. But again, I don't mind. The office is celebrating my birthday tomorrow instead of Thursday, because my coworkers want to have the birthday cake tomorrow so that it's an extra day of feasting. If my birthday was celebrated on Thursday, well, there is already going to be feasting on Thursday. I told them Wednesday was fine, but it has now started to bug me a little. I resent my birthday not being celebrated on the correct day, just because people want to have more food at their disposal. But at this point I need to just let it go, because it's all planned. It's my own damn fault for telling them Wednesday was fine when they asked. And I guess it Will stretch the birthday festivities out a little. Francisco has still not been able to get ahold of his mom, re: the cat. I don't know what we're going to do about that cat. The former roommate is dead set on kicking the cat out before Thanksgiving, and that's not far off, especially considering that Francisco is only here two more days this week to close the deal. I'm starting to get very nervous about that. Let me tell you about the time I was stung by a scorpion. It was when Francisco and I were living in Alabama. We lived there for a year, volunteering at a non-profit organization. We were living in a shack that I believe was built by chimps, and the shack was infested with scorpions. Believe it or not, this is not uncommon in the deep south--all sorts of nasty creatures live there. The previous occupant of the house had left a novelty oversized flyswatter behind, and let me tell you, it came in handy. The scorpions were only active in the warm months; when it was colder they weren't around. During the warm months I was very aware that scorpions might be making an appearance. I checked under the sofa several times per day and always kept a flashlight by the bed, for when I had to get up in the night and use the bathroom. The worst thing for me was always having to wear shoes in the house, because I am totally a barefoot in the house kind of gal. But I wore them, and I escaped getting stung until one night when I forgot about the shoes and was washing dishes in the kitchen, barefoot. I went to take a step back, and Yow, my right heel! I turned and there it was, tail raised defiantly. I screamed and tried to climb onto the counter, even though I knew the scorpion was slow-moving and wouldn't be able to get me again. My heel hurt and I was scared that I might be allergic to scorpion stings, and I was irrational and, worst of all, I failed to kill that little bastard (no shoe to hit him with). He scuttled away under the cabinets while I went batshit and Francisco ran in from the bedroom. After a few minutes it became clear that I was not going to be allergic to the scorpion, and I calmed down. The sting hurt worse than a bee sting, but the next day it was only itchy--it didn't hurt anymore. So it turned out to be no big deal, really, but if someone had told me before we moved to Alabama that I would be stung by a scorpion while there, I would have Freaked Out. I really hate stinging/biting things. The End. Last night the new AbFab was on, followed by two reruns. I love that show! The new kitchen set is gorgeous and modern, but other than the updated sets, the show is pretty much the same. The ladies have not settled down any, and it is a pure delight. I wonder what Catie thought about the new episode. Yoo-hoo, Catie! I recorded all three episodes but only watched the new one and half of the old one. I was tired, see. I don't have anything else to report, and I've had to write this entry in little sneaky chunks, so I don't think it flows. I'm going to quit before I do any more damage. Be good to yourselves, and have a great night! Love, E PS It just occurred to me that I'm a Scorpio, horoscope-wise--do you think the scorpion was just trying to be friends with me, because I'm a kindred spirit? PPS Also, I'm way behind on my emails, so if I owe you, don't be mad; I'll write you soon. |
come over some time & see me - 2011-02-25 |
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