You really think you're in control?

IT'S FRIDAY I'M IN LOVE
1. Phoebe quit her job at Shamrock. Gave a few weeks notice. No one seemed to mind too much besides me. Lots of stress is now resting on my shoulders. It went from a 4 man operation to one...me. I am the operation. I am my deparment. Taking the rest of my vacation days this week or in two weeks just to enjoy myself before I become "the boss". Good luck with your new gig, Phoebe.

2. Car got detailed. I don't think people you're paying $125 to do a specific job should blatantly make fun or you, your car, and your lifestyle choices to your face. Despite the great job they did on making all the sludge in my car disappear, I wouldn't recommend them to anyone. They were strangers, not friends, so how dare they tell me what to do with my possessions or how to live my life? Fuck 'em.

3. Curled up in my bed after work. Watched "She's the Man" which arrived from Netflix and crashed, hardcore. I decided today that I think I'm depressed or at least getting into that rut of "having the blues". Not feeling like myself and certainly not liking it. Woke up to a late night phone call which had me driving Betty Blue to Garfield for the last time. I needed to draft and be drafter but I'm not even sure it helped that much. It helped to find out I'm getting a FAT raise, regardless of not getting a replacement for Phoebe. When I say FAT, I mean PH-PH-PHAT! I love money. I'm American.

SATURDAY IS ALRIGHT FOR FIGHTING
1. Remember when I said the future was a Honda CRV? I lied. It's a black Toyota Rav4 and it's hot. Since it's big and black, I thought about naming it Earl after my big, black friend. But is that offensive? The Early Mobile has a nice ring to it. Early is the character I like on Squidbillies, too, so it COULD have a double meaning...but won't. Anyway, I love my car and would love to take y'all in a ride for it. But no smoking! And no mucky feet! And no puking into plastic bags! And for CRYING OUT LOUD, no spilling!!!

2. Got all gussied up and took my new wheels on out to Strongsville to be little Benny's date to his mom's wedding. I was there over an hour before he was (I guess I was poorly informed of the time) so I left for a while. Ended up with heart burn, a bad attitude and an emergency (see SATURDAY #3) so I never made it back to the reception. I'm sure he's mad but the whole point of my going was to be the designated driver but he drove his OWN TRUCK. How was that going to work? I didn't need to be there other than to be a show piece. A tall drink of water, if you will. So I didn't go back.

3. When a friend doesn't show up for a particular event, doesn't call anybody, doesn't come to pick someone up when she's supposed to, her garage is wide open, her car doors are unlocked, her dead bolt which is NEVER locked IS, her dog is inside, and her son is supposed to be picked up at 11:00p, you assume she's inside and you assume bad things. She must have received about 50 phone calls from concerned parties not to mention me and Bill banging on her door, honking horns, and trying to bust windows with the help of neighbors. When a person is 5 hours late to pick you up for a party and doesn't answer the cell phone, you panic. You call a locksmith. You worry that she's hurt inside. And in the end, when she IS inside but won't let any of the concerned parties in to see her, well, it doesn't all add up.

So my Saturday ended up with no wedding reception, no co-worker party, no beer during the race and no bonfire. Sure, I did get a new car AND won the NASCAR pool (GO KENSETH!!!) but overall, Saturday was as much of a wash as Friday.

SUNDAY BLOODY SUNDAY
1. Wanted to show my mom the new ride and was invited to tea with my sisters and nieces. Guess they had this whole day planned for quite awhile and I probably wouldn't have been invited if I had called when I did. Maybe it's because I don't have kids and it was like an end of summer/back to school thing. But I'll probably never have kids so will I always be left out of things? It sort of just rubs in my face the fact that I don't have a family. Sure, I have "a family", but when my parents are gone and my sisters have their husbands and kids and "families", I'll most likely just be me. When I was married even, Ezra said we wouldn't be a family until we had kids. I didn't even have a shot to have a family of my own.

2. I felt kind of stupid for being there today. I was pretty quiet. I hope I didn't come across as rude. I just really felt awkward. Other things happened besides the last minute invite thing to dampen my mood but I'll probably just keep those to myself. Let's just say I felt slightly ashamed and embarrassed and the worst part is, I wasn't even surprized about it. I'm actually starting to believe that I really can't do anything right. I got a raise and a slight (if somewhat by default) promotion this weekend and I feel more like a failure than ever.

3. Bill is out and about with his Dad doing God knows what. I'm here at home feeling lousy. He said he'll call when he's done. I don't know if I'm sleeping here or there or what's going. Such is life living out of an overnight bag. Part of me seriously wants to go to bed right now and call it a day because I know my quiet disposition and thoughfulness and "blues" will just be aggravating because I can't explain it all without sounding pathetic or like a broken record. I don't want anything I'm feeling bad about to be related to Bill in any way. But if I stay here, I don't stay with him and then I could end up feeling just as horrible...am I not going because I REALLY feel THIS bad or am I not going just to make myself feel worse? I've never actually chosen to NOT stay there. I think no matter where I am sleeping today, I'll probably cry.

MONDAY, MONDAY
1. I hope...

2. ...that I...

3. ...can survive.

Any other car, you'd just be wastin' your time.

I've had 3 stickers in my work cubicle that I bought at Heavy Rebel 2005 that have been just waiting to get on the back window of a new car. Well, 2 out of 3 (I'm sort of over my "True Necromance" sticker) are going to finally have a home!

I'm going to be roll roll rollin' in style as of this Saturday! It's sad that little Betty Blue Corolla is going to the car graveyard because we've had a good run. Lots of memories were made in the car...none of the X-rated variety, perverts. I wish I could count how many times Johnny passed out in it after nights out in Kent. Or how many times I tossed my cookies into plastic bags. Or how many songs I've sang at the top of my tone-deaf lungs. But sadly, I can't. That car took me through my relationship with a musician and therefore all over the United States. It took me through my happy marriage and bitter divorce. It's seem many friends come and go. It's been beat up and it's been loved. It was a good car but it's slowly dying. It's time to let go of the past and move on to the future.

And the future is a Honda CRV.

I asked Phoebe's help in naming the new ride with the strict instructions that it could not be named after a dead rabbit in a box that was transported over the Rockies. Or a cremated rabbit in a tin can. Naming a car is important. I remember when my old pal MVO and I named our cars Ruby 626 and Teal Tercel. She had a CRV. A black one and it was such a damn cool car. Sure, I don't have to pull horse trailer or cart hay around but I'm sure I can fill it up full of junk. I'm good at that. My current mode of transportation smells like there's a dead body hiding in it somewhere. And there very well could be. Good thing it's getting detailed tomorrow. Regardless, it's going to take me the rest of my life to pay this sucker off but in a way, that's fulfilling. It's going to be mine. And I'm going to love it.

Suggestions for car names are welcome.

Johnny already asked to borrow it for his next hot date. I said no because he called the "The CLR". He thinks the 1996 Nissan Altima will be more of a chick magnet any way. We may have to put some money on this. I like to gamble.

Outside of my orgasmic automobile excitement, I have a secret date next Friday. I'm not good with surprizes as it drives me nuts not knowing what's in store for me! But it IS cute that my fella has something planned for us. I have to leave work a little early and wear something specific, though I don't know what that is yet. Whatever it is that we're doing, it's taking place downtown and it is NOT a football game. Hmmmm. I'm pretty open to whatever...I like having future plans with Bill. Future plans are reassuring.

And for any one who cares, we had a lengthy chat on Monday where everything regarding his bad behavior was explained to me, I was apologized to (not just in an "I'm sorry" fashion but WHY he is sorry), and reassured that we are starting fresh. He even reintroduced himself to me. We've spent a few nights apart and I feel better. He knows this is his last shot to treat me how I deserve to be and that he's getting a spiked heel up the rear and out the door if he fails. So...it's still on, this thing we're doing. We're in the running for 6 months.

Phoebe just said the words/terms 'engorged', 'soft tissue', "wriggling your fingers', 'stimulation', 'vibrator', and 'the clitoris reemerges from under the hood'. What a perv. We are TOTALLY at work right now. Sweet.

You knew you had yourself a ball.

Today is my first day of bringing my lunch to work. I'm doing it to save money and in all actuality, the sandwich I made and chips I packed taste better than anything I could have picked up from a drive-through. Corners need to be cut and I'm doing my best to cut them. Got a few bills paid off (in full!) and hopefully by tomorrow night, I'll be pretty much caught up and we won't have to worry about sitting around in the dark or taking cold showers. Have I mentioned how much I HATE being an adult?

So I didn't take an extra vacation day today as you may have noticed. I knew I would just be way too behind if I did. I returned to a mountain of paperwork and a bazillion copies to make and things to do. I don't blame Phoebe. I'm sure she was up to her eyesockets in work and made it as easy for me as possible to transition back into the swing of things. I won't lie, I miss my bed and my sleeping aides and my television. But I didn't spend all of my down time snoozing. I met up with Bill Friday night (with hesitations) and we went to watch the football game at his sisters house. I was still tired, a little shaky, and a bit wary. I was sizing him up the whole evening. Evaluating his behavior. He even looked at me once and said, "I really have to kiss ass, don't I?". I'm not holding things over his head or guilt tripping him. I'm just trying to figure out what's best for ME for a change because I like me and think I deserve good things. Like season 6 of Gilmore Girls and a boy who doesn't fight with me in public. Is that too much to ask??

Saturday was semi-productive! Sure, I slept until 2:00p (everyone should do that from time to time) but then I stocked my fridge and cupboards, made homemade cheese potato soup, straightened up my digs, watched movies and drank Bloody Marys with the roomies. I couldn't sleep so well and was combing the internet until about 5:00a but it was suggested that I was squirrely because I wasn't sleeping next to my fella. He suggested it. He is soooo buttering me up but I'm still watching him like a hawk. So that was Saturday. Not an award winner but still pretty fulfilling.

And yesterday...well, Sundays are always dull since Becky moved. I watched multiple episodes of My Super Sweet 16 with Tom...he was a little over anxious to be watching it. I'm thinking he wants to be a wealthy 16 year old girl. I folded clothes, ate ice cream, and vegged. Finally took a shower. Ended up at Bill's for some shut eye. He knows I'm still mad but I think he appreciates that I haven't completely written him off. I think he MIGHT finally get the fact that you can't take advantage of the people who care about you. You should instead count yourslef lucky and try to give back what you get. I think he MIGHT be starting to see how lucky he is. I love that guy, it's true. But I can't do all the work. I shouldn't have to. We're supposed to "have a chat" later. I'm going to say everything I should have been saying all along. And hopefully he'll be listening.

Today, my calendar sayd "Stay awat from any man who shaves his legs on a regualr basis". Keep that in mind, ladies!

Scars only show when someone talks to you.

If these thoughts are random, forgive me. I've pretty much been sleeping for 30hours straight, only getting up to refill my cranberry juice glass and answer the multitudes of text messages I've recieved. I was off work yesterday and off again today and believe me, these days couldn't come soon enough. Let me explain WHY I needed this mini-vacation sleep-a-thon so badly.

First off, I'm currently up to my eyeballs in debt. Jen hasn't had a job steady enough to start paying me rent and Tommy hasn't totally moved in yet so I can't expect him to shell out cash when he doesn't QUITE live here. So the hole Phoebe left financially hasn't been filled yet and I didn't squirrle away any nuts for winter. I'll be honest. I'm behind in the bills which makes me feel like a failure. And asking my best friend for a loan makes me feel like a toad. She said yes because all people need a little help sometimes but my tail is placed prominantly between my legs at the current time.

Secondly, there's the big fight with my fella that took place in front of LOTS of our employees Wednesday night. He thinks he heard someone say somethign that wasn't true about me and a friend of his and would NOT believe my side of the story. I was BEGGING him to listen and he had no interest. He was cold and cruel and I was heartbroken. His guys took me over to his house because they were on MY SIDE. They wanted things straightened out. He let me in the house but didn't really let me talk. For the record, what he accussed me off, I didn't do. Simple as that. I did, however, throw his cell phone out the door which made him explode like a volcano (it was HIS idea for me to do it). But I found the pieces and put it back together and it works. But then...

...I stopped working. I had a horrible Athsma attack that was brought on by panic. After coming to the conclusion that I wasn't going to breathe on my own, I emerged from the bathroom to find that he had locked up the house and gone to bed. Phoebe was my savior. She came and rescued me, took me to the hospital where I got an IV and an aerosol treatment (they wanted to give me 2...NO WAY!) and then I busted free. I found my car keys in Bill's door waiting for me. I came home, got in to bed, and have been here ever since. But that is not where things between me and my marshmallow would end.

Third, he called at 6:22a yesterday, mere hours after I had been released from the emergency room. It must have hit him that he crossed the line this time. Embarrassed me...and himself...in front of co-workers. Yelled at me. Said horrible things to me. Treated me like I was a worthless nobody. I felt like I was reliving my college relationship. Groveling and begging and showing no signs of dignity or pride. Rumors has it his guys got on him at work for how he treated me. He should have been there with me, eventhough I didn't want him near me because I was in pain emotionaly and physically and held him responsible. But he was at home, sleeping like his life was just perfect.

He said that he called to see if I was alright. I said I wasn't and he said he wasn't either. For once, I just let him feel bad. I didn't worry about hanging up the phone without things resolved because my heart hurts. And it seems to be hurting a lot lately. The only thing he said that made me flinch a little was that he doesn't want to lose me. He said that he was an idiot and recognized how badly I was treated and for absolutly no reason. And I'm glad he knows that...but how many times can I have to patch things up? All I wanted was to go out with him and have fun. And when that went south, all I wanted was 2 minutes to explain how I feel about him an dthe lengths that I will (and do) go. He couldn't give me that either.

Today is 5 months of...whatever this is that we're doing. Anyone close to me knows that it's actually been going on much longer but 5 months is the marker from when we slapped the lable of "dating" on it. So it's 5 months today and I have no idea where we stand. He told me to take time to think, which I've been doing in between sleeping and watching episodes of American Dreams. I know what I want...I want him. I'd give up having kids, getting married again...for him. I know that. THAt is what I want. But is that the best thing to do? Probably not. But he is who I gave my heart to and I just wish he'd treat it a little better.

Sorry for rambling. I'm just in a sad and lonley place and need to vent.

This medicine is killin' me!

Go ahead. Tear me a new one...that's what the kids are saying these days. I've been missing in action, and believe me, there's been action! Think I'm being saucy? Nah, I've just been busy. I hate going this long without filling your brains full of rubbish but it happens. So here's a healthy dose of my brand of genius that I will entitle "10 Things You Didn't Even Realize You Couldn't Live Without Knowing About My Life: Autobiographical". Enjoy suckers!

1. My back hurts. Big time. I've been enjoying a Vicodin and Pepsi cocktail 2 or 3 times a week recently. This is not good. I hate having to shut my brain off to numb the pain. But sadly, that's what I've been doing. But I was assured that there's a Baby Oil back rub in my future. I can dig that. I can't dig this pain though. Huey Lewis needs to write a song for me called "I Want a New Back"...cause it's true.

2. The 48 on Bill's garage door is done. I like it. I hate Jimmie Johnson though.

3. A majority of the week was spent planning and preparing for the Slumber Party Massacre in honor of Jen's birthday. Horror of 59 and Chesty Deathrattle performed. A hole had to be beaten into my attic door to free the thirsty kittens. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I want to cry when I see it now. Boo. But the party was a smashing success, regardless of whether or not I announce that there will be no more parties. I'm always bluffing. I like to party. I especially like drama free parties where everyone has a great time (including Bill) and I get to try and fall in lust with BLOODY MARYS!! And I LOVE parties where I don't have to clean up! Weeeeeeeeee.

4. Drinking Tequilla from the bottle is never a good idea though. It makes for a rough Sunday. One of those ones where I only left Bill's bed for a collective total of maybe 12 minutes tops. He cooked me chicken on the grill, let me eat his peas, and kept my Pepsi glass topped off. We slept the whole day away and once the room stopped spinning, I didn't mind being a lazy bum. Oh, there was nudity, too. *blush*

5. Yesterday was the PITS at work. PITS! Phoebe couldn't come in so I was up to my eyeballs in shit and you do not want shit that close to your eyeballs. It's not healthy. And according to my mother, you don't want to cry at work.

6. So go out and have a cocktail insetad! Or in my case, you have a Bloody Mary, 2 tall drafts, and 2 High Lifes with your co-workers. You think about ordering food but you don't. You talk and goof off and have fun and let the weight of the day slip off your shoulders and into your liver. And even when your fella is being crabby (and it was understandable) and didn't want you to sleep over (and you didn't want to because you didn't want to catch his grumpiness), you roll with it. It was nice that he called later to apologize for rubbing his nasty attitude in my face but when his snappiness made a reappearance, I let him off the phone and DIDN'T call back (usually I call back...I hate to leave things hanging at night...I need to go to bed getting along). Instead, I let him sleep with his bad mood at his house and I watched cartoons in my bed..my BED, not the couch...in a Vicodin enduced haze! Oh la la!

7. And don't worry, Bill was in a better, marshmallowy mood and we spent or lunch break together where he told me he wanted to take me somewhere on Friday if I wasn't leaving for the race (see #8). He's taking me to a football game! May not sound exciting to YOU but I've never been to a game so I think it's really cute that he's taking me. I hope I can wear a hoodie. And drink beer. Do yoou hear this, Becky?!?! I'm going to a football game! TOUCH DOWN!

8. I need a break from my life so I've (semi)decided to use vacation days Friday and Monday from work and go to Michigan International Speedway to watch the race, camping in the infield again. I was so dead set on it yesterday and now I'm iffy. I'm thinking that hanging around my house, lounging, watching movies, cooking food, running errands, straightening up, napping, etc., might be more beneifical to my mental state than driving to Michigan and spending money I don't have. There's also the Hot Rod Hula Hop in Columbus. So many options. All I know is that Friday and Monday, I'm on mini-vay-cay and I can't wait. Maybe I'll give myself a mani/pedi and take a bubble bath. And maybe I won't get out of my pajamas at ALL. Even to get the DVR fixed! God bless vacation days!

9. I need a nap. I see episodes of "American Dreams", a tall glass of Pepsi, and the couch in my future. Doesn't that just sound heavenly?

10. When Jamie and I get hitched, I'm going to say we're McMarried...or McMurried.

VIVA!!!

Pay attention to me. I don't talk for my health.

My crush on Jamie McMurray is out of control. I'm all sweaty over it.

I think I'm started to become jaded and somewhat of a serial crab. Work is killing me. Money is killing me. A certain fella is killing me. Pussyfootin' is killing me. Party planning is killing me. Not having clean knickers is killing me. Living out of an overnight bag is killing me (but not sleeping with my marshmallow kills me in a worse fashion). I'm snapping heads off left and right and I just have a really blah attitude about everything and I hate feeling like that. All I want is a weekend in a nice hotel with a really plush bed a la our Heavy Rebel Hotel. I don't want to have to drive anywhere or plan anything or clean anything or sweat or stress. I want to watch pay-per-view movies, order room service, have cocktails, take a whirlpool bath, MAYBE swim in a pool or hang in a hot tub, and sleep with the air conditioning on and the shades pulled tight. That scenario isn't anywhere on my future schedule.

I thought an escape to Columbus would recharge my batteries but a work disaster sort of screwed that all up for me. Yes, I had a fantastic time with Becky, Tim and Porkchop (formerly known as Johnny Switchblade). After hours of verbal catching up, we had a rad dinner where I was introduced to Bellinis! Oh sweet Bellinis! Pitcher after pitcher going straight to my head. Heavenly. After a quick cat nap, we resumed an evening of drinking, game playing, chatting, and goofing off. But this entire trip took place after Bill and I stayed up from midnight to 3:00a trying to resolve scheduling issues at work. It was a BAD scene! Both of our heads were ready to roll right off and that is NOT what I wanted after seeing (and loving) Talladega Nights at the drive-in. It made us both stressed and crabby and we slept on separate sides of the bed. Boo. I left my home away from home in a sad state. And work issues just piled up like dead bodies! I took calls in the shower. I took calls on the can. I took calls in the car. I took calls at dinner. I took calls while hanigng out. I even took a call right before bed. I was cursing work. I wasn't even getting paid and I wasn't able to fully enjoy myself. Rot. Rot. Kill. Blather. Blech.

On the drive home, I DID stop at the most AMAZING gas station on the way home. God only knows how I've been existing without it. Exit #186 off of I-71 N. Please go. It will blow your mind. I thought I was in heaven. I could have dropped a few hundred bucks there. I could have spent my whole afternoon there if it was free to spend. Please go there. Have your mind blown. Thank me later.

My Sunday was spent with the good ol' family. We played miniature golf in the burning hot sun and then had a delicious Italian dinner. I had a nice time with my sisters and my parents and I seemed to work out a TOTALLY reasonable deal regarding a new car (which I NEED as I am actually fearing for my life in this death trap...I loved you Betty Blue. Together, we saw 21 of the 50 states..OK, so you didn't go to Nevada. Stop being selfish). But I was still stressed from all the weekend work bullshit. It was the worst work experience of my life. It wrecked my weekend. But luckily, it was all capped off in Bill's bed, trying to sleep off the weekend. Like I've said, drafting solves most problems.

Now it's a new week. I finished (for the most part) the 48 and a drunken Bill (and we're not even going to go there regarding him being drunk and me being alone, painting in the heat all day when I should have been drinking tall boys) was appreciative. He said it was beautiful. He may feel different today. I woke up with a bad attitude but the hoodie Phoebe got me that reads "Robots Make Better Boyfriends" brings me joy. It fits like a glove. I'm going to see mi familia for a bigger family gathering after work and then doing some pre-party shopping with Jen. Those things don't suck (though cleaning the house for the party does). Plus, I lost a few pounds and who doesn't love that? PLUS plus, Ben and Lisa's weird puppetry has inspired me to do a solo PFG dance to "Tastes Like Poison". I love the Drags. It's going to be sweet-ass sassafras.

Maybe I wouldn't be so cranky if I could just poop at work. Le sigh.

Who do you thank when you have such luck?

I think Sharky is catching "the sickness". After busting my ass working on the 48 (almost done...YEEHAW) last night, I was exhausted beyond belief. I even fell asleep during Futurama which highlights the extent to which my body was WRECKED. I didn't feel right when I woke up this morning...it was hard to meet Bill half way for a good-bye kiss) and it was extremely difficult to lift these old bones out of bed. Then the sore and swollen throat kicked in. As the day dragged on, and I mean DRAGGED despite what a busy bee I am, my gums began to hurt (toothaches always go hand in hand with my colds/flus), my muscles started to ache, and my head began to pound.

I really do NOT want to be sick, especially with the weekend upon up. I will karate chop someone in the throat (Bill just made an awesome "ninja karate chopping someone in the throat" sound over the phone) if I'm laid up on the couch, coughing and sneezing and crying. Tomorrow night, there's a triple-double-date at the drive-in. Sharon & Dave (Couple #1: Team Gearhead/4-on-the-Floor), Tom & Carol (Couple #2: Team Leather-Lace-Tequilla-Whiskey), Bill & I (Couple #3: Team Hanky Panky Hangovers) are goign to see TALLADEGA NIGHTS! We're been counting down the days and once I found out Jamie McMurray will be playing himself (and I will be wearing my Jamie McMurray SHIRT), I've had to change my panties far more often than usual! I like drive-in dates with my dude. I want beers and cheese fries and lawn chairs and hoodies. I do NOT want to be at home with the BLACK DEATH!

And Saturday afternoon, Switchblade and I are rolling on down to the state capital to eat, drink, and be shitty with our favorite drinking buddies, The Murphys! I miss Becky so much! I talked to her on the phone last night and was just so giddy when we hung up. I haven't seen her in...6 months (!!!)...which is the longest span of time we've experienced between visits. Hopefully we can have a nice dinner, go to a cool bar, talk our faces off, do shots, tell embarrassing stories from our drunken pasts. Ah, the Punk-Drunk Summer of...2001 or 2002? Was it REALLY that long ago? God, I could just puke in my lap...which is pretty much what I did that whole summer. Whatever we do, I'll have a great time. It will be exactly the mini get away I need to clear out my foggy head. Playing "asshole" and listening to Journey usually does that to a girl.

Bill called me "honey" today at work and I liked it. I believe the sentence was, "I don't feel good, Honey". It was adorable. It was also adorable when he woke me up last night to eat popcorn together. He does adorable things, no matter how hard he tries to hide them. I am now the proud owner of a Tony Stewart lunchbox thanks to him (he was actually listening when I said I collected lunchboxes). He's always feeding me and doing cute little things that are out of character for him. He takes good care of me 90% of the time. Everything's better for me if he's there. And THAT is why I am planning something extra super bad ass for his birthday! Sure, it's not until October but it's going to take planning and money and help for the big surprise to go off without a hitch. I'm excited. He thrills me. I want to thrill him.

There's a cause for all my sorrow.

I couldn't have been happier than when our Pussyfoot set was over on Saturday. I was hot, I was tired, I was crabby, and I just wasn't feeling it. It was a sweet relief to walk out of the Beachland. I wanted out of my outfit and into the bed, STAT! I didn't sleep so well and ended up leaving Bill's with a crabby attitude in the morning but he helped contribute to that. I think we were both miserable that morning for one reason or another and God forbid we talk to each other about it. Blech.

My bad mood got an adjustment when we went out to a Hibachi restaurant for Jen's birthday (which was yesterday...Happy Birthday, my little thug). I ate and ate and ate and then we headed on over to Valley View to see "Click". Do not see this movie unless you plan on crying a little or you're very close to getting your period. Nothing good can come of it and it made the whole lot of us misty eyed. Boo. The whole flick reminded me a lot of Bill which reminded me of our crabby morning. Blech.

The laziness continued as we headed back to the Ol' Kentucky Shark Corral and watched multiple episodes of Cribs, which always makes me hate my life. But putting on pajama pants eased the pain. So did recieving my FIRST text message from Bill! It was one of those moments where I heard my phone beep but ignored it because who could it possible be? No one important. And it was! And I didn't realize it for 45 minutes! ARGH! Jen made us all dinner and we watched episodes of Undeclared and were basically bums.

People headed home and up to bed and I had a short but sweet phone call on my front porch from my drunk and confused fella. I wish I could help him figure things out but all I can do is love him and listen to him babble. Our bad morning had eventually turned into a sweet (sweet like cute not sweet like "HELL YEAH, DUDE") evening. As I watched cartoons through hazy, painkiller inflicted eyes, I was thrilled to read the words "Good night. I miss you" on my phone screen. Sleeping apart is rotten but message like that rule.

Now I'm at work and things are back to being crabby. I have a sore throat and an earache and an all-around bad disposition. I'm not even sure why I'm typing at all. Who wants to relive moody days? I guess we have to take the nasty with the rad so we apprecaite our good days more. I need a good day. I need more days that include the man I lvoe buying me Tony Stewart lunch boxes. Le sigh.