This is grown man business.
Yesterday I took care of some minor business in the afternoon before the conference. Well, minor in how much time it took. Major in how much cash is being held up. I'm a little anxious, because the disbursement check which I first requested two months ago, and then second requested one month ago and was supposedly mailed two and a half weeks ago, has not arrived. And I need that check to pay Brownstein on, um, Wednesday. I'm waiting to hear back from my ex-HR department before I call the surgery center and assure them that I have their money and they will get as soon as possible, but please please please don't cancel my appointment. Of course, it's Saturday and nothing can be done until Monday anyway.
I had fried chicken and waffles for breakfast. Granted they were frozen blueberry waffles and the chicken was a skinless boneless breast, so I'm guessing it wasn't exactly Roscoe's quality, but it was still tasty. Now I'm trying to stay warm and sane in my house, which I've had blessedly to myself a couple hours, and then Lowenstein will come home and we'll get a lovely little bit of time together, even if it's just napping. Having a stranger houseguest in the midst of a stressful work conference weekend is not helpful. I mean, she's very nice and considerate, especially as houseguests go, but after a long tedious late night, I just want to be relaxing in my home, not making obligatory conversation or, more importantly, wearing obligatory clothes.
I'm giving myself all afternoon to be lazy, mopey, quiet, sleepy and anti-social, then tonight I'm going to fck shit up in that DJ booth. In a good way. Yeah, I still have some residual anger and resentment and frustration and other negativity, but I don't want to be like that. Because even though right now, I don't feel like I could care less, I'm not going out like that. Not just for integrity's sake, but for my own personal enjoyment. But um, yeah, I'll still need to pray or chant or find some sort elixir to bring it out of me. Or maybe just nap.
I had fried chicken and waffles for breakfast. Granted they were frozen blueberry waffles and the chicken was a skinless boneless breast, so I'm guessing it wasn't exactly Roscoe's quality, but it was still tasty. Now I'm trying to stay warm and sane in my house, which I've had blessedly to myself a couple hours, and then Lowenstein will come home and we'll get a lovely little bit of time together, even if it's just napping. Having a stranger houseguest in the midst of a stressful work conference weekend is not helpful. I mean, she's very nice and considerate, especially as houseguests go, but after a long tedious late night, I just want to be relaxing in my home, not making obligatory conversation or, more importantly, wearing obligatory clothes.
I'm giving myself all afternoon to be lazy, mopey, quiet, sleepy and anti-social, then tonight I'm going to fck shit up in that DJ booth. In a good way. Yeah, I still have some residual anger and resentment and frustration and other negativity, but I don't want to be like that. Because even though right now, I don't feel like I could care less, I'm not going out like that. Not just for integrity's sake, but for my own personal enjoyment. But um, yeah, I'll still need to pray or chant or find some sort elixir to bring it out of me. Or maybe just nap.
I'm so feelin' you:
My houseguest is a wonderful guy, and not exactly a stranger, but still... when he left this morning to go have lunch with a friend of his attending the conference I was SO GLAD to have a few nude, relaxed hours to myself. I had ham, sang showtunes, and danced around the house to Jimi Hendrix. Yeah.
Oh, and I can't WAIT for the show tonight. Awesome drag + you spinning = <3!
Re: I'm so feelin' you:
thanks for the pleasant words.
RAYTBEAR, I JUST WANTED TO SAY
that you played the GREATEST MUSIC OF ALL TIME last night.
I loved it.
Daniel
Re: I'm so feelin' you:
heeheeheee
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Those are the worst. This summer I had a few people stay with me for a week each and wearing suitable clothes at all times was the worst of it.