Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CRANKFEST Cranky, cranky, cranky. I am. Three days of too little sleep, thanks to people calling way to late at night, still slightly ticked off at Bemo for not phoning me to let me know that when he said he'd be at his friend's house, he neglected to add that he'd be there until eleven pm, so I had a baby freakout. The tickets for the reunion that we're supposed to be leaving for tomorrow haven't arrived, nor are any of the contact people answering their fucking phones. Bemo's brother is moving back in with his mom (and if he ever again tries to say that Bemo is coddled at the expense of himself and his sister, I will rip his head off and shit down his neck), so all the stuff we have stored in the basement has to leave ASAP. Including some big furniture pieces. And as that's all I've been doing for the past four days at work - moving furniture - I am really not fucking looking forward to doing it somemore. And I wanted to take a nap today and the PHONES WOULD NOT FUCKING STOP RINGING. I had mine unplugged, but the one in the office was just as capable of waking me up. I am going to go shower and take my pissy self back to bed. Enough is enough. 9:11 p.m. - 2002-08-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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