If I had a mood ring, the color would be yellow.
I can't find the papers I need for Monday. I know exactly the folder that I put them in, but ask me where I put the folder and I draw a blank.
I have a feeling that I left it at one of my numerous work places over the past few years. I may have needed it for one thing or another...and now they [the folders and papers within] are gone.
I have a copy. But in my experience, copies are no good; they always want originals.
This is one major set back of being a clean freak. When you go through a tirade of cleaning, and throwing things away, you are never quite sure if you have thrown something away that you may have needed later. I usually try to not think too much on that, but right now...it is bothering the living crap out of me.
Working against me is the fact that I only had 3 hours of sleep last night because my stupid neighbors are trying to smoke us out, and they are succeeding. I figured at 2:00 AM if they are going to wake us up out of a sound sleep by suffocating us with their second-hand toxins, then I can scream toxins of my own at them through the vents.
Trust me, I have volume and vocabulary on my side.
At one point I recall going outside in my flannel jammies to check on whether or not their lights are on, and realizing how white trash this all really is. Thankfully I had the presence of mind to take down my Pebbles hair-do before tromping outside.
After I came back in I realized that my wonderful husband had turned off the furnace fan. The fan that pressurizes our home and keeps their air from intermingling with our air. I've explained this to him. But he thought it a better idea to turn the fan off and shut the windows, thereby boxing us in a carcinogen coffin.
We are investing in an air purifier. Period.
That's okay, it will all work out I'm sure. But to exemplify my mood, just moments before I started writing this post, I sat down at my desk, and quickly realized that I was sitting in cold pee.
Cold pee. That about sums it up.
4 Comments:
Not white trash - "alabaster rubbish," remember, darling?
I think breathing supercedes any needs for polite decorum, in any case - I hate smoke.
Hate.
It.
Good luck, breathe well, and I hope you find your folder.
well...my behavior was anything but polite. I'm with you on the hate for smoke.
Kelly: exactly.
who left the pee on your computer desk chair? Was it your husband's idea of a devil's night prank - just early?
secret word: repicv - the recipe that calls for a fifth of WHATEVER you have on hand...
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