Post Christmas Post...

Friday: The little get together at Pookie’s turned out to be uneventful but comfortable. It was nice to spend time with The Idiot and The Pookie…Even if she invited her brother…(who, in my head, might as well still be a shy eight year old kid). The fact that he is in college freaks me out. The Idiot played Santa (and although I am always appreciative, I will beat him for his disobedience) and bought me bacon bandages. Yes, folks, I now have bandaids that look like raw bacon. Don’t be jealous. (They are so rad…you totally should be.)

Saturday: Pretty much stayed in bed all day. I had intended to anyway, but I had intended to be hung over, and…wasn’t. So, it worked out well either way. You know, aside from the crippling pain and all. Whatever.

Sunday: Woke up and opened presents with Mom, step-dad and the Fish Head. Got a robe made of clouds from FH (and I swear I would be wearing it now if it matched my outfit). Had entirely too much Captain Morgan and stayed up until 6:30 with FH and Eppernepperhart. (Unfortunately for all of us, Magic Mike wasn’t there to demonstrate his skills in the dancing department. GAAAWWWWSH.)

Monday: Woke up at noon. Tried to watch trash TV, but even Nicholas and Brad almost fighting on Y&R couldn’t keep my attention (I know…Guilty pleasure. When I am sick, I watch soaps. Well, just one.) Back to sleep until 4. Dinner. Shopping with FH. Home. Clean up apartment. Watch two episodes of “21 Jump Street” (Yeah, I finally fucking bought it. I told you. I really am THIS lame.) Bed.

This morning I woke up late for work. Not too late. Just late enough that I was able to get everything done, but I was forced to run around like a madwoman in order to do so. I got everything together and was walking out the door at 7:31. Locked the door and realized I had forgotten to bring my badge (to clock in) and the cake pan (to return to the nice lady who made me a birthday cake) that were on the counter. Unlock the door? Nope. Lock is stuck. My deadbolt is crap. Most of the time it, not I, decides when it will let me in. Which I am used to. This time, however, I fear that it may not be quite as cooperative as it has been in the past seeing as I tried for 5 minutes to get it to unlock before I finally stormed down the hall and out of the building muttering obscenities.

This, on top of the still throbbing pain in my lower back, the cramps that nothing will get rid of, and the fact that I have to be stuck inside on such a beautiful day when there are so many people I would like to be with, is putting me in a very foul mood. My only saving grace is that I am leaving at four today, buying WD-40, going home, spraying the shit out of my lock, praying that it takes pity on me and lets me in, and then hanging out with Eppernepperhart who called earlier and said, “HOORAY BEER!” I am taking this to mean that beer will be involved in said plans. So…I just need to hang on for two more hours, then…

Just keep in mind, if you see a girl in business attire, trying to break into an apartment, it is me. Walk on by. Unless I am having trouble. I might need directions to the nearest shelter.

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