All dressed up, and nowhere to go.
First, an open letter:
Dear BoobooKitty:
I realise that I never close doors between rooms in this house in which we live. This is mostly because the house is OLD, and generally speaking, the doors either do not stay closed anyway, or alternatively, DO stay closed and are not too excited about the idea of reopening. Since I do not wish to be in the bathroom for any longer than requisite, I leave the door open.
This is NOT an invitation for you to come STARE ME DOWN while I poop. Nor is it an invitation for you to TALK to me while I poop. And it is CERTAINLY not an invitation for you to come and rub yourself all over my legs while I poop. I mean, really. I love you. Bunches. No guy I'm not biologically related to has been a part of my life for longer than you have. You're special. But toilet time and intimate time ought not be intermingled. I mean, it's just awkward. It doesn't feel right.
Surely, you should understand this. Anytime I have ever so much as shot a mere glance in your general direction while you have been using YOUR toilet, I have received a glare that could KILL. Oh, the hypocrisy!
Can't Papa please just poop in peace?
Love,
Papa
-----
So, I'm supposed to be at work an hour ago. I knew we were getting snow. I didn't realise we were getting ice. Usually, it seems that Pittsburgh is pretty expedient with keeping the streets cleared. Not so much this morning. When I went outside, it was raining on my head, and I could tell that the going would be difficult, but I thought, "Ehhhh, I can make it."
No.
I got the car cleared off. The ice wasn't really hard, make one scratch down it somewhere and scrape across it, and it would just break apart and fall off the windows. Cleaning the car was a piece of cake. However, trying to get moving, I could get maybe three or four feet, and then there was no more going. Into reverse, no better. I had to call work and tell them I couldn't make it. At least, not right now. If they don't clear my street and it doesn't warm up anytime soon, I won't be able to go at all. Now that I'm hourly, THAT SUCKS. On the other hand, theoretically, I should've got the normal amount of personal time when I stepped down, since as hourly, I'd have had it anyway, so I should be able to use it to cover this, but I can't even be sure until I get my first hourly pay stub. And if it's not there when that comes along, then I will probably have to fight for it. (Well, probably not FIGHT, but go through an obnoxious process and WAIT, like I've got time for that.)
I think I may have just heard a plow truck go by.
Well, to go look, it looks kind of like it, but it's also hard to say that it was done well if it WAS. I guess the only way to be sure is to go try to go to work.
In other news, the LCD on my cellphone's front screen cracked today, and that makes me unhappy. I've NEVER had one do that. But I do carry the insurance on this phone, so hopefully that'll be rectified easily and without a lot of hassle.
Dear BoobooKitty:
I realise that I never close doors between rooms in this house in which we live. This is mostly because the house is OLD, and generally speaking, the doors either do not stay closed anyway, or alternatively, DO stay closed and are not too excited about the idea of reopening. Since I do not wish to be in the bathroom for any longer than requisite, I leave the door open.
This is NOT an invitation for you to come STARE ME DOWN while I poop. Nor is it an invitation for you to TALK to me while I poop. And it is CERTAINLY not an invitation for you to come and rub yourself all over my legs while I poop. I mean, really. I love you. Bunches. No guy I'm not biologically related to has been a part of my life for longer than you have. You're special. But toilet time and intimate time ought not be intermingled. I mean, it's just awkward. It doesn't feel right.
Surely, you should understand this. Anytime I have ever so much as shot a mere glance in your general direction while you have been using YOUR toilet, I have received a glare that could KILL. Oh, the hypocrisy!
Can't Papa please just poop in peace?
Love,
Papa
-----
So, I'm supposed to be at work an hour ago. I knew we were getting snow. I didn't realise we were getting ice. Usually, it seems that Pittsburgh is pretty expedient with keeping the streets cleared. Not so much this morning. When I went outside, it was raining on my head, and I could tell that the going would be difficult, but I thought, "Ehhhh, I can make it."
No.
I got the car cleared off. The ice wasn't really hard, make one scratch down it somewhere and scrape across it, and it would just break apart and fall off the windows. Cleaning the car was a piece of cake. However, trying to get moving, I could get maybe three or four feet, and then there was no more going. Into reverse, no better. I had to call work and tell them I couldn't make it. At least, not right now. If they don't clear my street and it doesn't warm up anytime soon, I won't be able to go at all. Now that I'm hourly, THAT SUCKS. On the other hand, theoretically, I should've got the normal amount of personal time when I stepped down, since as hourly, I'd have had it anyway, so I should be able to use it to cover this, but I can't even be sure until I get my first hourly pay stub. And if it's not there when that comes along, then I will probably have to fight for it. (Well, probably not FIGHT, but go through an obnoxious process and WAIT, like I've got time for that.)
I think I may have just heard a plow truck go by.
Well, to go look, it looks kind of like it, but it's also hard to say that it was done well if it WAS. I guess the only way to be sure is to go try to go to work.
In other news, the LCD on my cellphone's front screen cracked today, and that makes me unhappy. I've NEVER had one do that. But I do carry the insurance on this phone, so hopefully that'll be rectified easily and without a lot of hassle.