All great truths begin as blasphemies.
George Bernard Shaw
Mood:
calm
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There is nothing to read here. The content is over there, to your right.
I may, however, at some point, put something here. Some day. Eventually. No pressure.
my kingdom for a toilet plunger! x3
What a night.
My son, after a busy day at work with his dad, came home and ate two cans of Chef Boyardee Spaghetti and Meatballs.. 45 minutes later, he's vomited it all back up, on my bedroom carpet.
Why the bedroom carpet?
It seems he was trying to get to the ensuite bathroom because the main bathroom had a toilet problem. It was overflowing.
ack.
Grace under pressure. M. has none. Well, that's not fair, exactly. I think we're both so used to dealing with emergencies ourselves that we're a bit taken aback at being second guessed when we try to resolve them.
I don't throw a hissy fit about it though. *smirk*
I'll let him call the plumber.
Just about finished unpacking. Only boxes (and boxes and boxes) of books, office papers and some kibble left. I didn't think it would take so long, but having to pack up everything here first slows the process down.
Finally got the kitchen cupboards packed up last night and my own dishware put in. I don't know how to explain the feeling that accompanies drinking your morning coffee out of your own familiar, chipped coffee mug. A bit like the world has righted itself, if only an iota of a degree.
I'm itching to get my desk all set up but I think I'll get my daughter's room finished first. Have to start thinking about the school year. egads! I need to find their birth certificates to register them.. gods only know which box of papers they are in.
Bah, that's going to bother me until I find them.
More later.
Here you go Jerm. You're a bastard.
I have spent the day in my pyjama pants, lounging in bed, chatting and playing on the internet, drinking coffee, touching myself, reading Lovecraft and Ginsberg, eating doughnuts and nacho chips and black licorice.
I didn't find the birth certificates, I didn't do the laundry or the dishes or even answer the phone. Maybe it's my birthday. Or maybe I'm rebelling. Or maybe I'm just being lazy. Or maybe by the time everyone gets home, I'll be dressed, the clothes with be washing, the dishes will be cleaned and put away and oops! I didn't realize the phone was unplugged.
Or not.
But most likely.
It smells like it will be a good night for wine and truths and tears and kisses.
.dar.
soundtrack: John Denver - "This Old Guitar" (live)
My son, after a busy day at work with his dad, came home and ate two cans of Chef Boyardee Spaghetti and Meatballs.. 45 minutes later, he's vomited it all back up, on my bedroom carpet.
Why the bedroom carpet?
It seems he was trying to get to the ensuite bathroom because the main bathroom had a toilet problem. It was overflowing.
ack.
Grace under pressure. M. has none. Well, that's not fair, exactly. I think we're both so used to dealing with emergencies ourselves that we're a bit taken aback at being second guessed when we try to resolve them.
I don't throw a hissy fit about it though. *smirk*
I'll let him call the plumber.
Just about finished unpacking. Only boxes (and boxes and boxes) of books, office papers and some kibble left. I didn't think it would take so long, but having to pack up everything here first slows the process down.
Finally got the kitchen cupboards packed up last night and my own dishware put in. I don't know how to explain the feeling that accompanies drinking your morning coffee out of your own familiar, chipped coffee mug. A bit like the world has righted itself, if only an iota of a degree.
I'm itching to get my desk all set up but I think I'll get my daughter's room finished first. Have to start thinking about the school year. egads! I need to find their birth certificates to register them.. gods only know which box of papers they are in.
Bah, that's going to bother me until I find them.
More later.
Here you go Jerm. You're a bastard.
I have spent the day in my pyjama pants, lounging in bed, chatting and playing on the internet, drinking coffee, touching myself, reading Lovecraft and Ginsberg, eating doughnuts and nacho chips and black licorice.
I didn't find the birth certificates, I didn't do the laundry or the dishes or even answer the phone. Maybe it's my birthday. Or maybe I'm rebelling. Or maybe I'm just being lazy. Or maybe by the time everyone gets home, I'll be dressed, the clothes with be washing, the dishes will be cleaned and put away and oops! I didn't realize the phone was unplugged.
Or not.
But most likely.
It smells like it will be a good night for wine and truths and tears and kisses.
.dar.
soundtrack: John Denver - "This Old Guitar" (live)
Read/Post Comments (1)
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