dogs are supposed to be always faithful, not always a faceful
4/30 November 06, 2007
The real post for today.
Kind of an uneventful day, really. Work was busy without being frantic, and the happy birthday feeding frenzy in the next bay was less horrible to endure than I�d expected. Oh, it was horrible. Just less so than I figured it would be.
And thinking about the book meme felt kind of nice. Gave my mind something enjoyable to do at work for a change.
I managed to make it till this week before breaking out the sweaters, but once you hit a daytime high in the low forties, it�s time. I was dreading it, because I figured nothing from last year would fit, but so far, so good. My grey pseudo-twinset and my pumpkin-colored cable knit both fit fine. And if the pumpkin one fits, then the red one and the apple-green ones will, too. I guess I haven�t gained weight after all. YAY! I�m not any bigger; I just went to fat and got lumpier!I do need to go to Hell clothes shopping, though. Time for new pants and more winter work-tops. I could use some bras and panties, too, if I can afford it. AND new work shoes.
Did you ever get pissed at somebody and then feel like an asshole for feeling that way? I was reading something a friend wrote last night, and I realized something. She pisses me off. This is someone who constantly poormouths�just never lets me forget that she is soooo verrrry poooor!
And I�m soooo verry lucky not to be. (This is soooo verry insulting, dammit! I work HARD!)And she writes this shit to me on her laptop, while she listens to her iTunes, on her iPod, and I�m sitting there in the recliner last night, MENDING my SECONDHAND sweater, and just resenting the fuck out of her. Because I work and slave and pay bills and can�t afford jack shit, but she has toys.
And then, of course, the guilt instantly kicks in, because I�d never trade places with her in a million years. She has weird, potentially life-threatening physical health issues, and severe depression problems to boot. She can�t work much, the job she does have sucks, and her partner isn�t exactly Daddy Warbucks either, despite being a wonderful person. And I am genuinely fond of her. We always have a good time together; lively conversation and lots of laughs.
So I feel like a shitheel for begrudging her a couple of damned electronic devices. That�s not me. I�m not really a jealous person, or a very grasping or material one.
I hate when that happens.
I don't know what it was that put the wind up Mr. B last night, (come to think of it, it might have been the wind--it was howling enough.) but that pup was hanging on me. I was puttering on the PC and he was on the bed behind me, which puts him at the optimum height for peering over my shoulder. Which I don't mind so much--until he starts that Golden Retriever trick of leaning heavily into you. In this case, pushing his face and neck heavily into MY face and neck. Or doing the "wear me like a hat, Mom!" trick, where he drapes his forelegs over my shoulders and rests his chin on the top of my head. Fun, and not unpleasant, but very annoying when he won't quit.
I fixed his clock. When I played the long version of "Put Down the Duckie", that was it. He was captivated. He just sat on the bed, staring at that video, and every time Rubber Duckie went "squeak", he would cock his head and prick up his ears and he was riveted. Hee. I've got to get footage of that.
I was going to see how the rest of the day played out, and wrap up this post later this evening--but I have a sneaking spishun that I will find the Spouse at home when I get there. He called me about 1:00, to tell me how he smashed up his foot yesterday and it hurts sooooo bad, and he doesn't know if he can even put on his work boots.I managed to make it clear that if he hurt his foot that bad, he needed to get on the phone and get a doctor's appointment for either today or tomorrow morning.
Because I'm not feeling particularly sympathetic right now, and lets face it--if I accidentally kicked the door jamb with my bare toes on my way out of the bathroom? I'd suck it up.
Reading: �Rose in Bloom�, by Louisa May Alcott.
Beading: I�m still trying for that �tingle�.
Listening: NPR. ATC.
At Random: click here
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