I got a whole bunch of shit done today,
but the PMS fairy's legacy has made it impossible for ME to get done,
which is actually quite a tragedy because my husband was gone for 3 weeks.
Holy Freudian slip--it was only one, but it felt like 3.
(and I don't think that's technially a "Freudian" slip, but I couldn't think of a better way to say it...)
Anyway, when he got home last night, my heart almost burst.
We hugged so hard, for so long, my face smashed into his mid-chest.
I almost cried, and not from the pain.
I was just...so overwhelmed by how much I've missed him.
I didn't really think about it while he was gone,
but to know that he was BACK--that we would be spooned all over each other,
and I could kiss his shoulders,
and see his smile.
And yes, stupid god damned pms fairy was pre-SOMETHIN' so he only got a BJ.
A fan-fucking-tastic one, according to him, but still.
I shall commence to pout.
(please, for the love of god: no talk of monthly red-type stuff in the comments. Shit, now somoene's going to do it just to tease me.)
I don't know why I feel like i'm living in the Twilight Zone today, but I am.
And now that I've taken to using my "shift" key, I would really fucking appreciate it if it would cooperate!
I push it, and yet--
lower case letters persist.
My kids discovered that one of the birds was missing this morning--
after accusing me of setting it free, they told me that there are now 7 eggs in the nest.
I didn't believe them, since I had purposely chosen 2 females, but alas,
they were right.
What the hell am I going to do with 7 more birds??
Today is the day.
THE day that I get my hair cut by an artist.
I am absolutely beside myself with joy.
It's his day off, but he's meeting another of our friends and me at his salon.
It's going to be insanely fun.
I am trying not to hype it up too much--it's just a haircut.
But I've heard he is skilled beyond my wildest dreams.
Er...not my wildest, necessarily, but ya know.
After the haircut, the Bunko Christmas party.
I am pretty excited for this,
but I got kind of flustered while I was shopping for my white elephant present:
all the cool stuff I wanted to buy would not have been appreciated by the mormon half of the guests.
We're starting a new group in January...
cool kids only.
And on the downside,
a close, life-long friend is going through something extremely difficult today,
and I wish I was there.
She's going to be ok, but today is a big day.
A dark and shadowy day.
An empty day.
Christmas is coming--are you ready?
I'm getting there.
We still don't have a tree, but that should be taken care of tomorrow.
I got the needed new tree stand today,
and the extra strings of lights.
Ornaments and other decorations are ready to go.
Just gotta get that DAMN tree.
Last night I was having a lovely email conversation with Ms. Orange Tangerine,
about subjects as diverse as the day is long.
(or whatever cliche you wanna put there.)
I launched into a story about our lack of Christmas tree,
but decided it belonged here.
She's been just dying from the suspense of waiting to hear it, I'm sure.
About ten days ago, we went to get our Christmas tree.
Hubby didn't really want to go, but I pushed it.
The following is a smug little reminder from Fate to not try that again.
He didn't take a checkbook (we're debit card addicts, almost never carrying cash)
so he was pissed to discover that we had to go home and get it after picking out the perfect tree.
Well, my car had a bad battery, which had required several jump starts in the past couple of weeks, and it was dead again.
He was furious.
While we were waiting for my friend to come jump us, I rather testily suggested that he go have a smoke and chill out
(I hate it when he loses his cool because it's so rare).
He snapped back that he didn't BRING his cigarettes.
From the backseat, a cheerful little boy said, "Well you should have."
Hubby couldn't help but smile,
but his mood did not improve until he had taken the car to get it a new battery...
And now I must go wrap gifts and get ready to go for my fun afternoon and evening.