Gah!
My day is not off to a good start. I got into a fucking car accident on the way to work. A three-car pileup, no less. I survived, lest you're worried. ;) Lolo, however, had a great big hole punched in her rear end. And not, like, in a fun way. It could have been worse; I could have been the girl in the tiny eggcar squished between the SUV and the even-more-hulking SUV instead of the girl in front of both. Sigh.
Also!! I have been too preoccupied with Perúness to mention to y'all, dear boys and girls, that KUNTIBOSS HAS BEEN TRANSFERRED!!! Commence a rousing rendition of Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead.... right about.... NOW.
Woo! We have yet to piece through her job duties and hand them out amongst ourselves, but I'm not too worried. What this means for me, I don't really know yet, but I do know one thing: I won't be watching her ring that fucking BELL anymore. Good enough for me! In the meantime, though, I've been scrambling all week to tie up these loose ends.
Thirdly. Or nextly. Stomach anger not disappearing. Damn you, South America, I bought plenty of cool souvenirs and INTESTINAL PARASITES WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ONE OF THEM! Fuckety.
Lastly, I still have money paperwork to sort out in the Great Divorce Debacle of 2007. But at least it's almost done, and when it is, it's GIVEMEMYMONEYYOUSUCKASS time. Oh yes.
Not-lastly, I just heard a really cool thing on NPR about a book of six-word life stories. The idea is simple: summarize yourself in a mere 6 words. Not so simple for the voluminously, absurdly, floridly verbose among us. But! After a few stabs at it, I have come up with one. Sink Trap Brain, Squeaky Clean Conscience. That'd be me. TELL ME WHAT YOURS IS, PLSKTHX.
Ok, I'm still a wee bit too concussed to be expected to string these brainchunks together into anything cohesive, so there. Over and out.
Also!! I have been too preoccupied with Perúness to mention to y'all, dear boys and girls, that KUNTIBOSS HAS BEEN TRANSFERRED!!! Commence a rousing rendition of Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead.... right about.... NOW.
Woo! We have yet to piece through her job duties and hand them out amongst ourselves, but I'm not too worried. What this means for me, I don't really know yet, but I do know one thing: I won't be watching her ring that fucking BELL anymore. Good enough for me! In the meantime, though, I've been scrambling all week to tie up these loose ends.
Thirdly. Or nextly. Stomach anger not disappearing. Damn you, South America, I bought plenty of cool souvenirs and INTESTINAL PARASITES WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ONE OF THEM! Fuckety.
Lastly, I still have money paperwork to sort out in the Great Divorce Debacle of 2007. But at least it's almost done, and when it is, it's GIVEMEMYMONEYYOUSUCKASS time. Oh yes.
Not-lastly, I just heard a really cool thing on NPR about a book of six-word life stories. The idea is simple: summarize yourself in a mere 6 words. Not so simple for the voluminously, absurdly, floridly verbose among us. But! After a few stabs at it, I have come up with one. Sink Trap Brain, Squeaky Clean Conscience. That'd be me. TELL ME WHAT YOURS IS, PLSKTHX.
Ok, I'm still a wee bit too concussed to be expected to string these brainchunks together into anything cohesive, so there. Over and out.