Month: June 2011

I think I’m going to get up, have some pho for brekky and go to work.

Home = disaster.  I should probably spend the entire holiday weekend cleaning.

Work = interesting.  My boss came up to me after the town hall and said “You got it half right” (I had offered my predictions as to what would happen).  I have help now for the biggest project and I am fervently thankful for my team mates.

Personal life = large tub of anomie.  Church is over for the year but meetings continue (I missed one recently).  I have no significant other and no prospect of either meeting or converting one.  Unfortunately this has health implications and my health is definitely getting worse.  I could complain, but of course that’s a recipe for inviting suggestions, and I don’t want to do that either.  I am completely stalled on any of my projects, and while I can cheerfully and honestly say that I am not suicidal (because I’m not… I don’t think about it and I don’t consider it a fix for my problems) I am enervated and sad and wish I could lie on a beach for a week, which, alas, is not going to happen.  Besides, I have to clean my room, if only to find my fucking checkbook.

Jeff’s car has been recovered.

More when details warrant.

Apart from getting a little frisson of ICK every time I saw Jeff’s rental car in the carport, I had a lovely weekend of doing just about nothing.  I made a big batch of spag on Friday night which I shared with Janice, Jeff and Keith, and I made cookies on Saturday night after  Keith, Katie, Mike, Rozo and I had a drink at drink.  Yesterday it was Stargate Atlantis season 3 and lots of Deadwood.  And yes, I should have mowed the lawn.

Yesterday, probably because of stress, my digestion decided to write me a long, slow, miserable letter.  Then Jeff looked out the back window and realized his car had been stolen.

This morning, not two minutes ago, coyotes were howling in my back yard.  The cats, thank God, were inside, and believe me they were staring at the back door as if they were very happy to be safe inside.

 

 

Katie’s ex asked me if I’d take down any mention of his name – for a six pack by way of trade.  o.O

Horrible, ghastly, reprehensible things happened at work yesterday.

This work week can’t end fast enough.

I sang to the setting sun – it was amazing, what with the drums and the dancers and clapping and calling.  Katie and Mike and I had a simply magical time, and then Mike drove my car to Vera’s on Main for a burger (I was feeling too exhausted and hungry to drive – but I made the stairs with only one very short pause! – and o was that burger tasty!), and then I drove Mike back to his car and Katie home.

A beautiful woman in a bikini danced the hula while accompanied by drums and oboe in the light of the setting sun.

I am a little scorched today.

There were popo on the beach but they didn’t hassle us and they didn’t clear the beach at sunset with dogs and tasers as they have been known to do.  We did have to be told to pack up though.  I bought harem pants for me and Katie for a laugh.

I need some sun.

It’s too bad things are so atrocious at work right now.  I can’t talk about it for obvious reasons, but the sphincter readings are rising – explosively.

Missed a party on Saturday night because I was curled up in a fetal ball, and Just Barely dragged myself through the church service on Sunday.  Saying goodbye to Rev Katie just about finished me; I cried on and off for the whole service although I thankfully did not while reciting my portion of the ritual of farewell. 

Life sucks.  If it wasn’t for Jeff being such a congenial fellow I’d be melting down right now.

My dear sweet ersatz former son-in-common-law “would be grateful if I removed mention of his full name in connection with domestic violence from my blog as it is impacting his job search.”

It is a matter of public record that he assaulted Katie.  I fail to see why I should take it down because his having nearly put my daughter in hospital for her eighteenth birthday is now actually affecting him in a way the justice system never could.

I will think about it though.

Janice, a coworker, crashed here last night.  Jeff owns that he only gets couches that are fit for that purpose.

Look, a movie!

Last night I’m wandering out to my car at quitting time and one of my coworkers is standing in the middle of the parking lot on her cell phone, reporting her 1983 Rustbucket Landyacht stolen to the cops.  It was parked RIGHT NEXT to Ziva.  I commiserated with her and drove her home, which made me a titch late for the coordinating council meeting for church.  I also picked her up this morning because, duh, no car. 

Anyway, we’ve been having a lively and spirited discussion on a wide variety of subjects, and I hadn’t really had the opportunity to talk to her previously, so it’s kinda cool.

Sums it up