I'm bummed.
I don't know what it is, but I can no longer sleep at night. I haven't gotten more than 4 hours of sleep an evening since Terry and the munchkin left, and literally nothing I do helps.
On top of that, a friend of mine here at work got fired on Friday. Two weeks before Christmas, and the temp agency told her she wasnt' going back to work. We can't really figure out why, and nobody's talking. Which is a shame, because she should at least get the chance to fix whatever may have happened.
I guess it sucks because for me there's nobody to talk to nearby anymore. Who am I going to discuss Xbox nuances with, and tell witty anectodes?
No one, that's who.
At least my Christmas shopping is more or less done. I found Terry a gift I know she'll love, but you can't tell her. Are you ready?
It's shiny. Bet you didn't know that, huh? But it is. Because I am just that damn cool.
God. Five more hours of this. I'm stuck in 'stream of consciousness' mode, and I keep refraining from hitting the 'submit' key. Which is fine. I then get to take my usual hour getting home, feed the dogs, and search again for that goddamn CD I seem to have lost in the fifteen feet between my car door and my front door. I swear to god, I'm glad all my pieces are attached, otherwise there'd be no telling where they'd show up. I'm so fuckin' tired.
And then there's Call of Duty. I spent an hour or two last night shooting Nazis as a Private of the 101st Airborne. There's this one level, where I'm barrelling through the countryside in a stolen Citroen, while Nazis do their best to blow the utter crap out of me. And then we stole a Kubelwagen.
I don't know why, but that just really appeals to me right now. Someone gimme a Thompson and a Kubelwagon so I can drive around and shoot at Nazis.
I just want to go home.
On top of that, a friend of mine here at work got fired on Friday. Two weeks before Christmas, and the temp agency told her she wasnt' going back to work. We can't really figure out why, and nobody's talking. Which is a shame, because she should at least get the chance to fix whatever may have happened.
I guess it sucks because for me there's nobody to talk to nearby anymore. Who am I going to discuss Xbox nuances with, and tell witty anectodes?
No one, that's who.
At least my Christmas shopping is more or less done. I found Terry a gift I know she'll love, but you can't tell her. Are you ready?
It's shiny. Bet you didn't know that, huh? But it is. Because I am just that damn cool.
God. Five more hours of this. I'm stuck in 'stream of consciousness' mode, and I keep refraining from hitting the 'submit' key. Which is fine. I then get to take my usual hour getting home, feed the dogs, and search again for that goddamn CD I seem to have lost in the fifteen feet between my car door and my front door. I swear to god, I'm glad all my pieces are attached, otherwise there'd be no telling where they'd show up. I'm so fuckin' tired.
And then there's Call of Duty. I spent an hour or two last night shooting Nazis as a Private of the 101st Airborne. There's this one level, where I'm barrelling through the countryside in a stolen Citroen, while Nazis do their best to blow the utter crap out of me. And then we stole a Kubelwagen.
I don't know why, but that just really appeals to me right now. Someone gimme a Thompson and a Kubelwagon so I can drive around and shoot at Nazis.
I just want to go home.