Along those lines, today is "Good Riddance Day". I don't know anything about it and I can't stop to look it up now because I'm being
I'd kinda like a cigarette right now.
I need to write a blog post about Geogypsy's New Year's Eve party. Seriously! Why haven't I written about that yet? I want everyone to participate in it and it's going to take everyone time to figure out outfits, accessories, dates, dances, and stuff. Sheesh. I'll do that post next I think. I'm running out of time.
I love naked Jane time. It's naked Jane time for the next 3-ish days. Lex has gone off to visit family and I get the house and the cat all to myself. He hasn't been gone overnight in uh...2 years, I think. Maybe longer. Something like that. I sincerely needed this but how can I tell him to go away when he A) doesn't have anywhere really to go and B) has every right to be here? It's a weird thing, I know, this need to have excessive alone time. Is it excessive to want an overnight to myself? I don't know. All I do know is that I've wanted some home time just for me when I can eat cheese for supper, drink wine until bed, and not have anyone there to ask me questions or interrupt my process. I hope I get some long overdue writing done.
15 minutes can be a painfully long time.
I think I'm going crazy. This morning, in the shower, I heard myself tell myself that I only had "6 more days". 6 more days of what? I have no idea. That particular number means nothing I could ascertain. My brain is constantly spewing out random numbers. I have this weird mental checklist I go through of numbers...3 more days to the weekend, 3 more weeks to the next vacation, 2 days until pay day. That's just days. Then it's dollars. $534 and that one bill is paid off completely. 3 more weeks and I'll have that $534 and that bill will be paid off completely. 13 more months and all the bills will be paid off completely. How much have I managed to pay off since January? $4000? Almost $5000? Something like that. I'll have to check my math later when I'm not naked and in the shower and have access to a calculator and, you know, the actual numbers.
I need to get that post about Christmas done too. It took such a weird turn just as I thought I was wrapping it up. What's OK to say? What should I keep to myself? Why was I so irritated and growly about it? I hate being that snide about stuff that's long past. Bah. Edit? Delete? The first part was certainly interesting...at least to me. How is it that my father can still get that far under my skin? Sincerely, Old Man? I don't care how old you are, it is unacceptable to just sit there with a fcuking sarcastic grin on your face when you are asked time and again to help and then declare that you are helping by sitting on your fat ass, holding your water glass and snacking on cheese. Man oh man. I don't think I'm going to be able to let that go...
Even if it is Good Riddance Day.