powered by SignMyGuestbook.com |  |
1999-12-21 Writing from work today. It's not that I don't have a lot to do. In fact, it's unseasonably busy for me this week. But I'm uninspired to do any actual work. I've been depressed and irritable, and there's no obvious reason except for this goddam holiday. Consider yourself warned about the rest of this entry. I don't want to do any last Christmas shopping, certainly not because of who it's for (The Boyfriend) but possibly because of what it is (an antique clock that I probably should have ordered online when I first started looking a week and a half ago.) I know he'll be fine with an IOU for when we find the right clock, but it feels odd, having bought The Roommate a big nice present, and not having one for the man I'm going to spend Christmas with. (They both have lots of little presents too, so...) So I'm blue. Maybe it's because of the holiday. Maybe it's because my expectations are too high. Maybe it's because I'm a whiny snively selfish little shit who's not happy with the bounty that's in my priviledged little life, and when other people have needs or desires I treat it like an intrusion into the Divine Order of things. Nah. I probably just need Zoloft(tm) and a new car. Then everything would be all better. "Any personal problem can be solved by the suitable application of explosives." Gingerbread cookies haven't happened yet. We're supposed to do this tonight, but I haven't heard from the Boyfriend so it's hard to tell if he's had a chance to get the dough ingredients yet. I'm kind of upset that several mail order things that could or should have been here by now are in transit/missing/will not arrive on time. I'm not surprised by this. I've heard a lot of promises both from the retail world and from the online world, and few of them ever pan out. And if we lived in a more neighborhood-y neighborhood, I think our mail service would be a little less random. But then, my mom lives in the suburbs and her mail carrier sometimes refuses to give her catalogs or magazines until s/he has read the ones s/he likes. Ok, must do work. Must justify my being here and getting paid today. Must...zzzzz... _Casey
2003-03-29 - Moving Notice |
