A few seconds to pound keyboard before I head out the door. Was a great weekend, but now it's back to office-from-hell in boosh's amerikkka. And my parents are off on a cruise, which is good for them but leaves me without a semi-sane lifeline to talk to.
Ah, well, immediacy. Gotta copy docs for the Evil Ex and bring dog food over for Clover, lest she actually have to spend money. And then 58 miles to work. Chaaaaaaarge!
At work, to-do compiled, fax machine running, and soul dead. Need to reanimate it. Quick, someone come blow sunshine up my butt.
Comedy; Gabe took his new puppy Clover to be with him while he slept at EvilEx's house last night. Dog shat on the rug; EE is convinced this is entirely my fault, and wanted to quiz me on how I was handling parental discipline at 6am. I explained in brief summary it was Gabe's dog and he got to take care of it, that I had a job to go to, and left. I predict it'll be Grandma who gets to clean up the shit. Not My Problem.
Being here, however, *is* my problem. Got three other things to do today as well before getting Gabe for his dance class. And I also want to get the fantasy engine going again.
Up at usual insane hour, stop off at Evil Ex's to drop some stuff off, then into the office for a day with the crazy bosslady. Then to Gabe's dance class, for which he didn't show up, then home to discuss this with him. Much discussing later, then homework and to bed, and hoping his dog doesn't explode.
And tomorrow is a long workday again. I think I should sleep. I can shop for a cellphone at 3am if I get up again.