the rage
i cannot express how much i hate automated phone systems. i. hate. them. too. much. for. mere. words. to. express. my. loathing. i sit on the phone, grind my teeth and suffer from the most overwhelming desire to beat the handset into the desk and cry, this makes as much sense as what you're saying you freaking douchebag!
but, seeing as i'm at work, i exhibit remarkable restraint and only grind my teeth. fucking automated phone systems.
SO. i survived the beach soccer blast although my feetsies aren't so sure of that as yet. i expect that's largely in part because i haven't been doing my physiotherapy exercises. hmm. yes, that would probably be it. yesterday i had a lovely evening bbq'ing tasty cabobs and drinking wine with a friend i haven't seen in a long time.
in less than exciting news, my apartment has slid back into the realm of "aaah! real monsters!" and i have got to do some serious cleaning. i know i keep saying that, and i'll have to keep saying that until i stop being so lazy as to be content with surface cleaning! keep the hope alive folks, and throw in a prayer that the dishes don't attack.
but, seeing as i'm at work, i exhibit remarkable restraint and only grind my teeth. fucking automated phone systems.
SO. i survived the beach soccer blast although my feetsies aren't so sure of that as yet. i expect that's largely in part because i haven't been doing my physiotherapy exercises. hmm. yes, that would probably be it. yesterday i had a lovely evening bbq'ing tasty cabobs and drinking wine with a friend i haven't seen in a long time.
in less than exciting news, my apartment has slid back into the realm of "aaah! real monsters!" and i have got to do some serious cleaning. i know i keep saying that, and i'll have to keep saying that until i stop being so lazy as to be content with surface cleaning! keep the hope alive folks, and throw in a prayer that the dishes don't attack.