Alrighty then!
Tonight all is quiet around casa de queso, and I am going to go to bed early and sleep hard. I’ve been having trouble with that lately, despite the fact that I collapse and pass out within 5 minutes of burying myself under a pile of pillows and/or cats. I’ve been having dreams. I know that’s not weird, but I don’t usually remember my dreams. Also, I tend towards working-out-anxieties-type dreams, so when I remember them, I wake up tense and crabby. Moreso than usual, even. In the past few days, I’ve been dreaming about banal stuff that plagues me, like the house being messy and the dog tearing stuff up and bad smells. Seriously, that’s pretty common. I also had a dream that Person X grabbed me in a surreal middle-eastern public bathhouse and literally humped my leg in an extremely unsexy and disappointing manner, and also that Person Y’s girlfriend called me to tell me she was pregnant and they were getting married, and that I would never hear from him again. But in my favorite dream of all, Ozzy was a morning show dj, and I was his co-host. And while I do have exactly the shitty attitude required for morning radio, I do not have the voice or patience for idiocy. I realized tonight that maybe I should start packing for this trip Friday, too, because the rest of the week is a little booked. Tomorrow night is auto maintenance class, which not only takes up the whole evening, but is held somewhere on the other side of the universe near where I work, too close to Wisconsin for comfort. I’m absolutely looking forward to it, though, and so is Chico, since his last repair two days ago involved a twist-tie. Thursday I’m not working, but will be around at many many appointments and such, and I’ll be lucky to have time to do laundry. I know most people can just toss stuff in a bag and be off on a trip, but not me. Give me half a chance and I’ll leave my left leg behind in my rush to get out the door. My huge accomplishment of the past day has been getting all my financial affairs in order. I opened new investment accounts, set up my budget and the rest of my life in Quicken, called my bank and insurance company and financial advisors, and hunted down the long-cold trail to my previous employer, which looked to have vanished from the face of the earth, but then turned up again in Atlanta. I was not thrilled to find that the same asshole who I had to battle for my payment of my invoices every month has migrated there and was unhappy to assist me with my paperwork. But I got it and all is well, and someday I can even retire. Since I can’t picture myself not working in some respect, count on me to be the deaf, crotchety greeter at your local Wal-Mart when I’m 90. Oh yeah, I was going to bed early. Good night.Jenni