AAAGH! Too much for a morning to cope with...

So how much sleep do you get, LT? On an average work-night?
My answer; Just enough to never be enough.

And the first of my morning chores...?
Well I whack the alarm clock to make it shut the hell up, then I make my shoulder click in a really unpleasant and worrisome way... again...
*pokes shoulderblade... which is no small feat of limberness, I can tell you*


I had a horribel thought the other day... I missed radio boy's birthday. :/ It was on the 10th and now he's buggered off back to Uni.
Snot. I've never forgotten his birthday before...

Oh and double snot, there's an E-Mail in one of my lesser-used accounts that I wish I'd found yesterday. Apparently Sarah's coming down to visit and will be here approximately... tomorrow.
That is if this e-mail is new, cause if it ain't, It'll be... tonight... O_o

Fuck... *looks at chaos*

OK, someone remind me to muck-out my room when I get back from work, ok?

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So I now commence my one-day weekend.

woo.

Though I do get to go in a whole half hour later than normal on Sunday.

again. woo.

I MAY potentially get Tuesday off though, but it's not a definite thing yet.


Right now I'm hot and stinky and need to muck out the pigsty that doubles as my room. Or at least put the laundry away, that'll clear a whole crapload of space right there.



On a seperate note, I've resigned myself to the fact that I most likely didn't get the jewlery job I went after. Mostly cause I'm sick of waiting to hear about it, and it's easier to be negative because then positive things come as a reeealy nice surprise.


Now... bath. Ludo smell bad

In which LT squibs out

Ewwwww *squibsquibsquib*
Well into the last third of Misery now and some of that was fucking vile... but then I guess what else was there to expect?
Apart from more to come, that is.

I'm at the point where I actually want to know what happens, but really don't want any more squibbyness. It may be a vain hope, but *eh*. I have the nonsense of The Fandom of the Operator to un-squib with when I'm done, and I never did bother making it all the way to the end of the movie. So though the French and Saunders version (Where did that bazooka come from...?) gives an outline of expectations, an exact answer is still one I don't have.

In general though... Thoughts so far veer between "It's actually OK" to "Fuck me that's vile" to "Jesus, get over yourself already..."
Parts of it make me want to hum Annie get your gun.
The comparison of writing to masturbation, however, just left me thinking that that told me waaay the hell more than I ever actually wanted to know about Stephen King *snerk*

More when I'm finished, though that'll probably be after the nonexistant weekend. I'd actually quite like to crack along with some of my own stories at some point, though whether that'll happen or not... ha.

and after the grossness...

Ohh, forgot to mention it. Found the BIGGEST fucking Wolf-spider at work today.
*squeals and whimpers pathetically*

It kamikazeed down into the shower tray after I moved an empty shampoo bottle and gave me the biggest fucking scare. I HATE spiders, I really, realy hate spiders...
It was one of them big-assed jumbo ones too, like 2-3 inches wide kind of a deal.
I slammed the shower screen shut while it tried to scuttle free and then it glared at me... sat there and GLARED...
I ended up drowning it in furniture polish and smooshing it with a plastic beaker.
*shudders*

That's like, the 6th spider incident and by far the creepiest.
The arachnids are out to get me, man... they're cranky cause I mocked all the way through 8 legged freaks...

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Sarah's here. Having one of those days where, even though we've all known each other pretty much from birth, keeping up a lasting conversation is proving both taxing and impossible. Too long between correspondence and not enough alcohol, I believe.
Frankly right now I think everyone's a little too tired to care too.

Also, am crap at small-talk ;p

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On a totally random note, just because I think I'm turning into my mum who's turning into my granny...

I can't be doing with so many spurious rules in life. They keep making me want to do all the things I supposedly shouldn't. ;P~~#

If I wasn't so consistently sleepy of course, that is. ;) Have no energy to be cantankerous and I suppose I'm not technically old enough.
But then I don't have the anger to be rebellious either

Damn my apathy. I'd change the world if only the world was worth the effort.