Based on yesterday’s hard-hitting poll results, you want me to join the gym down the street.
Goddammit. I don’t even WANT to join that gym.
Also, you may have noticed I’m writing to you during my lunch hour, and maybe you’re in a lather because I usually write you in the morning. I know at least one person who has announced to me that she reads while she poops in the morning, and sometimes I think the bloom is off the rose of all our relationship. My relationship with all y’all all.
The reason I didn’t write sooner is I shut off the alarm today because it was so pesky, then reawakened with a jolt at 7:10. I have to be at work by 8:00. So that was a relaxing leisurely morning and I do not at all look like dung or anything.
I did not kill a Muppet, back there. That is a slipper. Edsel moved it and I just found it when I got home for lunch, when what I was REALLY looking for was Second Blu, because the only way Edsel fetches is if you have TWO Blus and you throw one and then the other.
I never found Second Blu.
Anyway, I’ll mull over joining that gym even though I don’t want to.
In other news, they put The Poet not just on my floor, but in my row, today. I told her, “Hold my flowers and stand at your desk looking poetic.” I got flowers from a reader this week. Aren’t they pretty? They’re right there in front of The Poet, in case you missed them.
We are busy AF at work right now, which isn’t good because I also have freelance to do, so I get home drained and cranky and then have to work. But last night, please note that I took time out of my busy schedule to drank. Yes, I referred to it as “to drank.”
Last night I was working a little late (see above) when Ryan asked me to join some people for a happy hour. As you know, from your Big Book of June Events, drinking alcohol gives me a migraine so I rarely do it. But I decided to drag self out anyway, and once I got to the place and saw Ryan and Alex in the window, I was glad I did.
Once in college, I had a friend I eventually slept with (see: all the white liquor one fateful night), but before I eventually slept with him we spent a whole summer being friends. Until that night toward fall when we said, “Let’s split the huge drink that has all the white liquor in it.”
Anyway, he had a summer job as a janitor at Michigan State, cleaning one whole building. I’d asked him to join me at the bar we went to, oh, every night, once his late shift was over, but he was exhausted and planning to just drive home. However, he had to pass the bar to get home, and in the window saw me gesticulating wildly with some story, and he was all, “Well, now I have to go in and hear whatever THAT all is.”
Anyway. I could not resist getting The Ned last night, and I didn’t drink all of it because now I fear the reaper and any alcohol. But The Ned was delicious and did not ruin me. It’s Russian Roulette, just like any time I speak to The Ned IRL.
So, I got away with it and am no worse for the wear, other than sleeping in because I didn’t get home till 6:45. I mean. Who even am I? Back in MY day, there were times I didn’t get in till 6:45 a.m. and still went to work at 8:00.
I have to go. Seeing as I’m writing during lunch, I have to, you know, have lunch.
Here’s the sunrise today in my back yard, and it is pretty. Does anyone have cheap ideas for making the yard cute and sit-able once spring gets here? Any cute decorative ideas or chairs or whatever that I could get that won’t cost a fortune?
Oh, also, do I need this?
I do, don’t I? It’s supposed to be for children but fuck that noise. And by that noise, I mean
[Here’s where June will not sign off, “Cuckoo for cocoa cocks, June.”]
[I saw that in the x-rated section of the video store circa 1997. Never got over it.]
Your gym-iest pal,