I think Gmail sucks. It takes forever for mail to arrive, as compared to the instant reaction of Yahoo. So I guess I'll stick with Yahoo.
I know the blog look still has issues. I'm working on it, you will just have to cope.
I am up way too late, as is usual.
I have decided. I am going to Dallas for my birthday. It had better not suck. (No offence meant, folks. I'm just in a bitchy mood, and have now tried to spell "mood" three times as "mook". What the hell is "mook" supposed to be?)
I am stressed.
I am tired. Phyisically, emotionally, and of the job.
Hey, Leif. Do you need a personal assistant, or a Journalism major? One is me, one is not. Guess which is which. Although I suppose they could be the same person...
I *need* to get Danger Cat FIXED. She yells horrendously, and it makes me lose my cool. I try not to be evil to her, but when I realized that you can hear her outside, if you are anywhere near the windows or door (which is incredibly easy) I was decided.
So I'll add that to the list.
Traffic sucked on the way to work.
I put a hole in Luigi's favorite jeans.
I had to work the crappiest parts of the line, both in one day.
I don't get paid enough. (Who does? You either get paid too little, or way too much. Guess where I am in that scale.)
I would so be a super villain if I had some goons, or flunkies, or even well trained turtles...
Pretzel is moving to a different shift/line.
I don't have a whole lot of vacation available right now, and being at work is nigh on intolerable. But I don't have enough points left to just call in. Besides, I need the damn money.
I have more clothes than I want to talk about, and too damn few I can wear to work or want to wear otherwise. (don't say anything, I don't want to hear it.)
My 10 year reunion is theoretically happening, somewhere, sometime.
I don't think that going will be as fun as I think it could be.
My shoes are all wet because some stupid upper-managment is going to tour the facility -- and that is the way they put it out there -- so we had to clean to a retarded degree. It's just going to be almost as dirty as if we cleaned like normal by the time he/they get there, and would he/they know the difference anyway? Really, now.
I can't communicate with my mom. Never could, really.
I'm still trying to cope with Uncle's death without shutting down completely.
I have a hard time relaxing enough to really enjoy my sisters.
I worry about my brother.
I'm not going to get enough sleep tonight/this morning.
I gave the game Tinker loaned to us to someone who works with him, and they gave it to someone else, so I have to go track it down because Tinker is on vacation this week.
I dream and plan bigger than just about anyone excepting Donald Trump. But I never have the resources/energy/inclination to carry anything out. Which is lucky for the world, when I am in my super villain mood.
I need to buy bags for the vacuum, because somehow my indoor cat got fleas.
I need to bathe said cat, again. This will be the third time.
I need to win the lottery. And a big one. I've got really good plans, and not really for stuff for me. And I feel like God owes me. If you had to listen to Danger Cat yowl you would agree.
And don't tell me that God doesn't owe me. I don't want to hear it.
