I spent Valentine’s Day in bed. And not the fun, Valentines Day kind of “in bed”, the kind that means that you can’t get out until after you’ve swallowed two muscle relaxers and have to drive yourself to the hospital to get stuck with a bunch of tiny needles. It helped though and the rest of the day was hazy and quiet. Until about 1:30 this morning. And I won’t even get into that except to say, GOD DAMMIT! I was lying in bed awake (watching MORE "Growing Pains") for FOUR FUCKING HOURS.

This morning, though, I called to say that I would be in around noon and attempted again, at a sound sleep. I woke up this time with an exclamation of “THE RECYCLING!” (Stomp, stomp, stomp…) And I say again, GOD DAMMIT! I just fell ASLEEP! I finally gave up somewhere around ten when Thing Two knocked on my door to ask me if I wanted breakfast. He was wearing a tee-shirt I had given him last night after he spilled red wine on the two shirts previous, a purple and white lea, and a black bra. And even though, I had completely prepared myself to be a very angry girl this morning, (I still am) I couldn’t help but laugh. That’s the thing about Thing Two. I like him. So, even when I want to punch him in the face, he makes me laugh. The nerve!

I got to work in a pretty bitter mood. My back still hurts and my head is pounding from the combination of no sleep + pills + red wine. I feel like I got hit by a bus. But while checking my email, I discovered this piece of poetic gold:

Oh, my dear Crystal
Please hand me a pistol

You aren't hear to talk
About weird boys who stalk

I don't like it here when I'm all alone
I can't even call you up on the phone

I know your back hurts, but this ain't fair
I need you here, need you to share

Mean and terrible thoughts alike
Don't leave me here no more, you big fat dyke.

And, well…I have to hand it to you, Casper, you are a true poet. And here I thought that nothing would beat that song you wrote for me. Talent. Plain and simple.

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