houses

We can both picture Alex in this chair, one leg cocked over the arm. I would sit the same way in it myself.

For some reason we get the catalog in the mail every couple months. If we had a home of our own, I would be ordering tuffets and a chaise lounge for Alan. I would have a library with this desk and a swan couch. Everyone needs a comfortable Victorian armchair for reading, right? As for me, I've always wanted a Faberge egg, and this little egg is probably the closest I can come to the genuine article.

Of course, our house would be a bizarre eyesore in the end. We would attempt to cram 500 years of furniture design and art into one place. I have the feeling Alan and I will require a very large home one day, and not because of children. At least we have similar yearnings.

So tired. I will eat an orange and take a bath.

back to bed and pretend none of it started

All I really want to do right now is go to sleep. Despite having slept nearly twelves hours last night. It's the cold, I think.

My benefits card, necessary for prescription purchases, will nto activate. I called Wells Fargo, as they are the company in charge of the cards. I had the woman on the other end of the line actually say, "Uh I don't really know why that would be, um, we don't have anything to do with that," along with various other unhelpful things. At this point I was furious, and I called Fidelity to rage at them for a bit. They said they would call me back in 5 business days. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot? Such bullshit. I have the feeling this is all tied into my name change. But why would they change my name, send me new cards and then closed the damned account?

I hate them all. People get married, people change their names all the time. Every day in fact. So why the hell is this such a pain in the ass? Oh, right, I live in the Twilight Zone. I keep forgetting. It's far too much to ask of the universe for something to just work.

I also hate several of my coworkers at this moment. Especially the one with the loudest, most obnoxious ringtone I've ever heard and the two who insist on singing along to every single damned song played over the PA. Hate, hate, hate.

We have to go grocery shopping, but it is so cold and wet.