So…the weekend is over. And I have to say, I am getting really sick of this whole, go to work, come home, cry myself to sleep because I have to go back in the morning routine. I have infinite knowledge of useless facts, I should get paid for THAT. Screw this “job” thing.
I do, however, have some useless facts to report…and they go a little something like this…
Susie Sunshine is NO LONGER a coworker of mine. It’s a beautiful thing. And no, I don’t know where she went and no, I don’t care. I just like when I can come into the office in the morning, sit down, and not hear about her new shoes or her new pimple. I failed to report though, that some girls in the office were trying to teach her to say things like, “She’s a hot mess” and “she looked busted” (because she is the whitest girl I have ever met IN. MY. LIFE. And being a white girl…well…I think that speaks for itself). And I have to say, the girls doing the teaching seem to think it is hilarious when she says things are a “hot mess”, however, it makes me want to bang her head against something repeatedly…so…needless to say…she’s gone. Criz is happy.
T and J are finally getting married. About three weeks ago, I got an email from her that said they had gotten engaged again. Again. So, naturally, there were congratulations and things and then there was today. Today I discovered that they have set a date. In less than four months. And what’s more? I totally forgot I am going to be in this wedding. Two years ago, we did the dress fittings and all that good, pre-wedding garbage that I love to hate and now…in less than four months, I will be a bridesmaid. Again. So I have vowed never to eat again. And that can only mean one thing. Liquid dinner.
Spliff had discussed with her current roommate that she will not be signing their lease for another year and will be hightailing it back to the beach as soon as we can work out the details surrounding our new/old roomie-hood. AND the last apartment we lived in…that we LOVED…is for rent right now. So…we have been talking to the landlord a little. And he says “I would love to rent to you guys again!” but I have a sneaking suspicion that he won’t be able to wait to rent it out…It doesn’t matter though…if anything, I think it just reaffirms what I have always believed (that me and Spliff will be 87 years old, living on the beach in a shack with 23 cats) and proved as a sign (that it is time for her to come back so we can start growing us some kittens).
The Fish Head (who doesn’t return calls) is thinking about heading back this way as well. Which I am excited about…seeing as I never see her without a bunch of other people around…I am thinking we may actually get to spend some (gasp…) sisterly, quality time together. I know…its farfetched, but I had to take the shot.
Randular has been sending me texts today. I hadn’t spoken to him in about six months and had recently thought that he may have been attacked and eaten by wild dogs or abducted by aliens or something. But…crisis averted, the Randular is doing just fine and still makes me think of Michael Jackson. And playing Kings in the dark. (Man. I need to hit Savannah up. Who’s in?!)
And…well…that’s really all I got.