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Everyone took grumpy pills this morning, I swear.
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Monday? Really? Where did my weekend go?
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Neal McDonough is such an excellent creepy guy.
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Obnoxiously loud music coming from next building again. Colbie Callait? Really? Not sure if it's volume or music choice that's bugging.
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Emptied storage unit and my apartment is boxville again. I have A LOT of books.
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Dancing with Jack to Sam Cooke, but he is sadly mistaken if he thinks I'm going to share my Terra exotic vegetable chips.
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Tonight's fun and exciting plan: pasta, shiraz, and catching up on The Sarah Connor Chronicles.
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Yes, you unobservant moron, those "pretty flowers", the Georgia O'Keefe prints, they have been up on my wall the WHOLE TIME.
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Sad - I used to really like this job.
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Planning a Sex and the City party for Saturday. Girlie fun!
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Debating blog appropriateness of funny doctor appointment story from yesterday.
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Last night's local news promos included a story about abandoned kittens. I did NOT watch.
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Or possibly my whiny baby just needs some new toys.
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Jack acts all cool, but I know he misses Frank. Because the only toy he's really playing with is the one of Frank's that got left behind.
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Stressing about money. Not good.
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Organizing pictures instead of working.
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Hiccups. Ouch.
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My job boils down to this: I kill trees. A LOT of trees. Because, and I quote my boss, "email is bullshit." AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!
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Figured out pretty fast Mike wasn't dead, but thought it was coma-ville again. Nice to be slightly surprised.
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Said it before, but it bears repeating: Godiva Key Lime Truffles are one of the best things EVER.
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