I just have to go with the damn flow. Three people this week have asked me why can't just chill out? It's not in my nature, but it's Friday, I'll try.
Replacements have been ordered for various factions in this parts, let's see how this goes. I have scary visions of teased-hair nightmares right out of Working Girl, but that ain't my decision.
We're inundated with new bells, whistles, thingies, whooziwhats and systems. I am too cerebral for this place and it's making me emotional. Like I said before, kiddies, alcoholism never looked so good.
They could get rid of me next, and there ain't a damn thing I can do so I just need to deal. Fine. I'll try.
RD, thanks for the psycho teddy bear email. Very funny. I'll pray to Angie Stone and D'angelo to get me in a better groove, but I doubt it will help much. It's the not knowing that's killing me. Anyone with a pressing need to send sympathy, wacky messages or chocolate ganache? Now's the time. GO TO IT IF YOU MUST!
The most I can do is dance with Dexter and curl up with a nice bubblebath. I'm so tired, I might doze off and drown, but then I'd be a mermaid, a childhood wish. My wishes just ain't comin' true these days...
Somebody shoot me...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.