(no subject)
I spent a couple hours in the library after work today, because there was a gap before this coworker Christmas party I had to go to but it was too long a ride to make going home worth it. There is seriously no place on Earth that I love more than the library. Every time, I walk out thinking 'I can't believe they gave me all these books for free!!1!' and of course the books have to go back, which is always a total trauma because by then I've come to love them and adore them and all, but still.
Chris from work: What are you gonna do while you wait?
Me: Go chill at the library.
Chris:...did you just say you were going to buy a vibrator?
Me:.....CHILL! AT THE LIBRARY!!1!
Chris:...
Me: SHUT UP!
The Christmas party was 10 times more fun than expected. We all sat around my coworker Betty's dining room table and ate lasagna and cake and told awful jokes and made fun of each other, and then did a Yankee Swap of gifts while I sat on the floor with Betty's Pug in my lap and her ancient, incredibly sweet Pitbull giving me hugs, and my coworkers made fun of me some more. I can't help how much I love dogs, man. They're just so perfect!
My Yankee Swap gift: is a massage thing with six different attachments
Chris:.....
Me: MORE WITH THE SHUTTING UP PLEASE!1!!
I came home and Jack was meowing to bring the roof down because instead of going right upstairs, I paused to put my rent check in the mailbox. I seriously can't believe how loud he was and hope he doesn't pull that during the day while I'm gone.
When I stepped into the entryway, I tripped over this...thing. Jack murdered my spider plant while I was gone. So there was its corpse, all roots and leaves in the middle of the floor, and when I went into my room there was dirt like blood splatter. I disposed of the body and vaccumed the rug, all the while ranting at him about the things CSI people could do with lights and small bottles of liquid and bug casings and voids! and how I'd let him do time! and how he better keep his mitts off the rope hoya or I was turning his ass in to the Feds!
Jackitty? Remarkably unimpressed. He's lucky he's so cute and cuddly, man.
And now, I am tuckered out and ought to be in bed but my tattoo, which is five years old, is all swollen and owwie, as happens periodically. I desperately want another tattoo but this alone makes me all nervous about it. I shall sign off and poke at SeSa instead. Or Yuletide. Or possibly stare at my monitor like a drooling idiot, you really just never know with me.
Chris from work: What are you gonna do while you wait?
Me: Go chill at the library.
Chris:...did you just say you were going to buy a vibrator?
Me:.....CHILL! AT THE LIBRARY!!1!
Chris:...
Me: SHUT UP!
The Christmas party was 10 times more fun than expected. We all sat around my coworker Betty's dining room table and ate lasagna and cake and told awful jokes and made fun of each other, and then did a Yankee Swap of gifts while I sat on the floor with Betty's Pug in my lap and her ancient, incredibly sweet Pitbull giving me hugs, and my coworkers made fun of me some more. I can't help how much I love dogs, man. They're just so perfect!
My Yankee Swap gift: is a massage thing with six different attachments
Chris:.....
Me: MORE WITH THE SHUTTING UP PLEASE!1!!
I came home and Jack was meowing to bring the roof down because instead of going right upstairs, I paused to put my rent check in the mailbox. I seriously can't believe how loud he was and hope he doesn't pull that during the day while I'm gone.
When I stepped into the entryway, I tripped over this...thing. Jack murdered my spider plant while I was gone. So there was its corpse, all roots and leaves in the middle of the floor, and when I went into my room there was dirt like blood splatter. I disposed of the body and vaccumed the rug, all the while ranting at him about the things CSI people could do with lights and small bottles of liquid and bug casings and voids! and how I'd let him do time! and how he better keep his mitts off the rope hoya or I was turning his ass in to the Feds!
Jackitty? Remarkably unimpressed. He's lucky he's so cute and cuddly, man.
And now, I am tuckered out and ought to be in bed but my tattoo, which is five years old, is all swollen and owwie, as happens periodically. I desperately want another tattoo but this alone makes me all nervous about it. I shall sign off and poke at SeSa instead. Or Yuletide. Or possibly stare at my monitor like a drooling idiot, you really just never know with me.