(no subject)

Work is so deathly. I may have to just quit, because they don't seem ammenable to the idea of me working slightly less. I'm frustrated and flighty right now.

The apartment will be full of people all weekend, and I have nowhere to escape to.

The Parenting section is mine now at work, and I've spent a lot of time trying to alphabetize and straighten up the shelves lately. It's strange to look at these books for hours on end and wonder if I'm ever having children. I'm not sure how I feel about it.

I wish I knew why. For so many things.

(no subject)

This relationship is challenging. One line from my horoscope today, and I find myself sitting here at work thinking about all the relationships of my life and precious few of them were ever simple.

Gene's out of town this weekend, and Melynda's family is here for her graduation ceremony. I think I'll stop on the way home and get her some flowers.

So very few things to be certain of.

(no subject)

Imagine me, barefoot in the kitchen, with my laptop on the bar, making salsa, looking through the mail, watching Suicide Kings and singing to myself. If only you could see me now, or drink here with me. I kind of wish I was watching something with Alan Rickman, but Christopher Walken will satisfy the creep factor for the evening.

I thought I owed Time Warner money, but I recieved a check from them today. Go figure.