Last night, I went to bed at 10 to 8:00. That’s the nice thing about migraine–you get your rest.
I am in a streak, a migraine streak, since before I left for Michigan. I’ve had a damn migraine every day since Sunday. Welcome back to Greensboro! So, last night, I trudged home gingerly, as opposed to MaryAnn-ly, fed the 90 pets, and said, “Edsel, I’m just gonna lie down for a bit.”
Not that he didn’t follow me down the hall with Blu once I said that, dropping it dejectedly when he figured out he wasn’t coming with me. And yes, I felt like a dick.
The point is, next thing you know my alarm is going off and I’m in all my clothes. So. Nice. Nothing feels better than waking up in all your clothes, like you were camping.
Oh, and also, speaking of Edsel, who in case you didn’t know is my gay dog, like anyone just got here. But speaking of Edsel, I have a problem…
I’ve set this room up so that there is now a chair next to the window where the cats eat. This means that stupid Edsel, ON THE DAILY, gets on the chair and eats all the leftover food. Today, he NUDGED LILY OUT OF THE WAY so he could eat her food.
And yes, I yell at him and he turns into a contrite letter C, until the next mealtime, when he gleefully and gayfully does it again.
Surely I can’t be the only person here who owns a cat and a dog. Where do YOU feed your cats so the dog won’t eat it?
Also, my building shares office space with a few counseling offices. Say “office” one more time. Anyway, they’re having a toy drive, which is really a bad idea. Adult humans should really be the only ones driving.
Anyway, every day, Elmo, Big Bird and some blue character–did they update their blue character since the Cookie Monster, which is where I left off in 1971? Anyway, every day these three characters are doing something funny at the box. Sometimes they’re just staring through the carton-holder openings.
…Oh my GOD, you guys. See that text, above? I wrote that, and 900 MORE PITHY WORDS this morning, and when I hit “publish,” it published my headline and NOTHING ELSE. All I was able to get back were these first paragraphs, and YOU MISSED ALL MY PITH. So here I am again, 86 calls to WordPress, AT&T and AppleCare later, at lunch, trying to write you again.
What I was telling you, before the goddamn internet ruined my goddamn life, was that tonight is my work Christmas party, and yes, they call it a “Christmas” party.
The first year I worked there, in 2011, my date was Dick Whitman.
In 2012, they’d laid me off and brought me back as a contractor, and I wasn’t invited to the Christmas party. Hmph.
In 2013 and ’14, I went with Ned.
Then we broke up, as we are wont to do, and in 2015 I took The Naughty Professor.
And then in 2016, I got back together with Ned, as we were wont to do NOT ANYMORE but we were then.
We had both gained eleventy hundred pounds. What stress? And by the way, since Chippiegate 2017, I have done Weight Watchers NOT AT ALL, but I got back on that wagon today. Gained back four of the 10 pounds I’d lost, dammit, but still. I’m thinner than old Big Dot up there in m’polka-dot dress. Old Tri-Chins, up there.
Anyway, this year I’m going alone. Alooooone. ALONNNNNNNNE. I’m going with six fewer pounds and one less man.
Oh, it’s fine.
This year, the event is at the country club, which is exciting because that’s near my house, given what a fancy neighborhood I live in. I live in fancy-adjacent, really. When I first moved here, I told someone what street I live off of, and I remember the person asking which side of Battleground was I on, which is the dividing street between fancy and not fancy. Why didn’t the person just go ahead and ask, “You got money?”
Which, by the way, I do right now. I got paid last night, and I got my monthly deposit from Amazon THANK YOU OH MY GOD YOU GUYS, and also I got paid yesterday for doing that freelance work I never shut up about last month, a check that has four digits in it.
This means I’m considering getting my new dishwasher, or alternatively, tiling the floor in the terrible room with that concrete floor. I’d like to put in some kind of retro-looking linoleum, which does anyone remember where I found that stuff? The really good pretty linoleum? I talked about it before, but now I’m all, where WAS that, even? Does anyone know? I think it was technically a linoleum company from England. I’ll never find it again I HATE EVERYTHING.
Anyway, which should I do? Ooo, Ima add a poll. That always goes so well, when we do that.
I promise you this post was a lot funnier THIS MORNING before I had to remember what I said and re-create it all crabby-like, but I leave you with this…
I put this puppy bed, fmr., on my dining room table, fmr., which now resides in my computer room, fmr., and does anyone local need a very long table? Anyway, I thought it’d be a nice place for cats to lounge in private, and yet? No one used it. My cats never use actual cat BEDS I provide them–they’d prefer Edsel’s bed or my bed or my clean clothes or anything that inconveniences me. Nevertheless, yesterday Steely Dan suddenly embraced the puppy bed, and for that I am grateful.
I leave you now but I’ll be back to give you a poll. Which is what HE said.
Hoping this doesn’t all DISAPPEAR INTO NOWHERE.