If anyone knows where my Tylenol bottle is, please email me. It was last seen on the kitchen table, which is now piled with my grandfather’s and my mother’s stuff.
I have to get up at 4:30 to go to work. My head is pounding. Because I’ve had about 20 hours of sleep over the last 4 days (and 9 of that was in one shot), I went to bed at 9pm. At 10:30, I took two happy pills to knock me out. At 11:45, I gave up. Welcome to midnight.
My sister flew in tonight and will be here for a while, so that will relieve some of the stress. Speaking of flying …
A couple weeks ago I had to get my car aligned (remember that snow pile I drove through like a stunt driver? Apparently that wasn’t a good idea), so I had to use MoC’s car. But it was literally buried in snow so David and I had to clean it off with a shovel and a broom. And it wouldn’t start at first. It had been wicked cold for a few weeks. I finally got it started and David had to push it out because there was an ice patch behind the tires (of course). He put the broom in the trunk instead of taking it back into the apartment. So I said, “Um, is that your way of telling me if I can’t get the car started in the morning, I should just take the broom?”
While we were
destroying unpacking MoC’s new apartment, I was looking for a lace runner that she had on her dresser. David got into a trash bag (because we’re classy like that) and pulled something out.
David: Never mind, this is a bed skirt.
Me: I’m a little worried that you know what a bed skirt is.
David: Well, they come in the package thing when you buy the whole bed set.
Me (staring at him): You’re kind of a girl.
David (hand on his hip): I buy manly colors!
And then there is always texting with Leslie …
Leslie: I just read your blog. A wee bit hard on yourself. Fuck reality, Ill send you a cookie bouquet via Comcast.
Me: A little hard … but true, too. Aw, a Comcast cookie bouquet? You’re too much. Seriously. You’re. Too. Much. Fucker.
Leslie: Borderline freakish, but mostly a hopeless romantic. Maybe I should send you magic brownies instead, fucker.
Me: Forget the brownies. Send me a hooker. Wait. Send the brownies WITH the hooker!
Leslie: If I get both, I’m not sharing! LOL
Leslie: Aw, you love me.
Me: Yeah, but not very much. I love brownies more.
And now it’s 12:30, so I’m going back to bed to take a nap before I have to go to work.
Calgon, take me away!