The Joy. The Joy.
Except just sub in the word "horror" for "joy," and then we're money, on the same page, you're diggin' the vibe.
Yeah, I've been pretty friggin' miserable of late. Some is perfectly understandable, like yet another attempt at quitting smoking, though this will be a less noble and more successful attempt than previously. Why? Well, I can't barely breathe right anymore, so smoking has lost that "fun" aspect. I've always actually enjoyed smoking, but the oxygen deprivation is just a bit much.
Oh, and then there's the joy of home ownership. Missuz J, one of my two faithful readers when I can actually get it together enough to write, asked how we like the new place. I get that question a lot. I think its a little like asking someone if they like being a parent. It more just is. I'm glad we're building equity, but the mortgage makes us poor. I like having space, except it takes a lot more time and energy to clean it. And, this past weekend, the fridge died, spoiling a ton of food and leaving us with thawed beef blood on the floor. Sure wish I could have called a landlord and bitched about that,
Plus, with the quitting smoking, I'll probably put back the weight I lost with the move and the painting and all the cleaning across our four floors. So I can be crabby AND fat.
I'm not writing, I feel like crap, I hate my job and it pays fer shit.
But, I'm not going to leave you all with nothing but my pee for your cornflakes. I'm sure things will get better, and I did recently discover that Pedialyte clears up any booze-related gut issues like it was invented for the purpose, so I got that going for me, which is nice. No, I'll leave you with one Liv story that may make you smile.
She was playing by herself, imagining playing with a girl from preK, and from what I could hear they were calling each other a name. I heard "I'm a _______? You're a _______!" and finally had to ask her what she was saying, which of course she didn't want to do. She didn't want to tell me the new bad word she had made up.
The word, the bad name she was calling her imaginary friend and herself? Assfinger.
Heck, yeah. I've got a new favorite cuss-like name. Just don't tell Liv - I told her she can't use it anymore.
Yeah, I've been pretty friggin' miserable of late. Some is perfectly understandable, like yet another attempt at quitting smoking, though this will be a less noble and more successful attempt than previously. Why? Well, I can't barely breathe right anymore, so smoking has lost that "fun" aspect. I've always actually enjoyed smoking, but the oxygen deprivation is just a bit much.
Oh, and then there's the joy of home ownership. Missuz J, one of my two faithful readers when I can actually get it together enough to write, asked how we like the new place. I get that question a lot. I think its a little like asking someone if they like being a parent. It more just is. I'm glad we're building equity, but the mortgage makes us poor. I like having space, except it takes a lot more time and energy to clean it. And, this past weekend, the fridge died, spoiling a ton of food and leaving us with thawed beef blood on the floor. Sure wish I could have called a landlord and bitched about that,
Plus, with the quitting smoking, I'll probably put back the weight I lost with the move and the painting and all the cleaning across our four floors. So I can be crabby AND fat.
I'm not writing, I feel like crap, I hate my job and it pays fer shit.
But, I'm not going to leave you all with nothing but my pee for your cornflakes. I'm sure things will get better, and I did recently discover that Pedialyte clears up any booze-related gut issues like it was invented for the purpose, so I got that going for me, which is nice. No, I'll leave you with one Liv story that may make you smile.
She was playing by herself, imagining playing with a girl from preK, and from what I could hear they were calling each other a name. I heard "I'm a _______? You're a _______!" and finally had to ask her what she was saying, which of course she didn't want to do. She didn't want to tell me the new bad word she had made up.
The word, the bad name she was calling her imaginary friend and herself? Assfinger.
Heck, yeah. I've got a new favorite cuss-like name. Just don't tell Liv - I told her she can't use it anymore.
posted by JJisafool at 4:12 PM
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