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verbicideHaving a supremely cranky day. Didn't sleep well or enough, apparently, as I nearly fell asleep at a meeting earlier.
Wearing a new bra, which is unfortunately low-cut and I am falling out of.
I'm cold. I forgot my goddamn glasses and I'm doing fine-tuned work that could use a better range of vision.
All I want to do is curl up with a mug of cocoa, Hobbes, and the new Melissa Banks book that just arrived.
I feel unreasonably sulky for someone in reasonably good health, with an undeservedly good life. I just can't snap out of it. For 5 weeks. So maybe I should do something. Except I can't.
Normally I would ask for someone to slap me (or just slap myself), but I think I'd completely freak out at the hint of criticism. Which, if you know me, is not like me at all.
Bah. *stomps around like a two-year-old*
I'm supposed to go work out after work, but I don't fucking want to. I have to do my French homework before the lesson I rescheduled for tomorrow night, because I won't have time this weekend.
Also need to clean my place a bit, though nothing can really compete with the sterile environment Stace keeps her flat in. I do want to vacuum up the excess cat hair/dander that coats the place five minutes after it's been vacuumed so she doesn't die of anaphylactic shock. I love that Stace doesn't let her allergy to cats hold back on the amount of smooching she gives Hobbsie. Thank god for Claritin.
Speaking of--his blood tests came back pretty good. I finally picked up the damn prednisone and a new bottle of insulin. The goal for today is to not forget it in my office's fridge.
Another goal is to not kill anyone before making it back home to seethe in the comfort and privacy of my own home.
Wearing a new bra, which is unfortunately low-cut and I am falling out of.
I'm cold. I forgot my goddamn glasses and I'm doing fine-tuned work that could use a better range of vision.
All I want to do is curl up with a mug of cocoa, Hobbes, and the new Melissa Banks book that just arrived.
I feel unreasonably sulky for someone in reasonably good health, with an undeservedly good life. I just can't snap out of it. For 5 weeks. So maybe I should do something. Except I can't.
Normally I would ask for someone to slap me (or just slap myself), but I think I'd completely freak out at the hint of criticism. Which, if you know me, is not like me at all.
Bah. *stomps around like a two-year-old*
I'm supposed to go work out after work, but I don't fucking want to. I have to do my French homework before the lesson I rescheduled for tomorrow night, because I won't have time this weekend.
Also need to clean my place a bit, though nothing can really compete with the sterile environment Stace keeps her flat in. I do want to vacuum up the excess cat hair/dander that coats the place five minutes after it's been vacuumed so she doesn't die of anaphylactic shock. I love that Stace doesn't let her allergy to cats hold back on the amount of smooching she gives Hobbsie. Thank god for Claritin.
Speaking of--his blood tests came back pretty good. I finally picked up the damn prednisone and a new bottle of insulin. The goal for today is to not forget it in my office's fridge.
Another goal is to not kill anyone before making it back home to seethe in the comfort and privacy of my own home.
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no subject
Date: 2005-06-08 08:55 pm (UTC)Also -- good luck not killing anyone today. I'm tempted to throttle someone myself. And I also want to be home with a warm beverage and a fuzzy friend. *stomp*
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Date: 2005-06-08 09:00 pm (UTC)Hobbsie would love you.
I just finished reading about your day. You've got far more cause for homicide than I do. Hang in there, you!