I guess I'm up. I slept terribly.
I was kind of afraid this would happen: I was fine all week without Ned, because, I guess, we do have weeknights where we don't see each other. Four weeknights in a row? Okay, not so much, but still, with the workweek and the dog-walking and the back-to-back Long Island Medium-ing and the laundry, I was busy and fine. But I was worried that if I SAW Ned, I'd get sad that he had to leave again.
And guess what? Yesterday I saw Ned, and it was great, and then I had to go back to work and he headed to the beach. "Everyone's already there," he told me during "lunch" yesterday. "I have to get there and start drinking defensively."
"You know, Ned, you're almost 50. You don't have to drink like an idiot anymore when you're with your friends."
Ned had a blank look when I told him that, the kind I'd give someone who'd tell me, "You really can't afford Botox." I'm having the feeling that while I'm up at 8 a.m., Ned might be what you'd call sleeping it off somewhere on his manly trip.
I made plans for last night, thinking that'd cheer me up, but I've been struggling with a ding-dang stupid assy migraine since Thursday, and yesterday we had a bad thunderstorm, which is not helpful to my head. Barometric pressure. Did you know that's a migraine trigger? I am full of the facts.
So I rescheduled my plans till tomorrow, and my friend Jo emailed me funny pictures from her adventures out last night, which was fun. For example, she saw this painting on a bathroom wall. I mean...
I wish I could figure out what this reminds me of. Twat could it be? Let's talk about it later; I have to sit on this for awhile. I'll C U Next Tuesday.
The other day at work I was j0king around with TinaDoris and told her "I'll C U Next Tuesday," and my boss said, "Oh, are you going somewhere?"
June's work jokes. Often the same work jokes Jackie Kennedy made at HER job.
Anyway. So, today yawns before me with no plans other than my dinner/drinks plans tonight with The Tall Boy. Oh, calm down. He has a girlfriend and I have a Ned and it's no big deal. We're friends. But when I told Ned, I got the "realllllly" he always whips out when I do anything with The Tall Boy. He called me from his drive, Ned did, to complain about the traffic and to say how beautiful it was near the beach, and then he asked what I had planned for the weekend. So I told him I was going to see The Tall Boy at some point over the weekend.
"Realllllly."
Whatever with Ned. Y'all know I'm trustworthy. That is what matters.
I have $81 till payday, and I'm going out on the town tonight to get as wild as I can be, I'm gonna FIND out what's it's really like to be loose, high and free, so the things I want to today do seem sort of out of the question. I was tempted to go to estate sales (watch June spend her entire $81) or to the Farmers Market (say, where'd June's $81 go? Oh! I know! To processed food at the Farmers Market!), but since I can't spend at either, I think what I'll do instead is clean my gutters.
Woooo!
Is there any danger my gutters will have snakes in them? You know how I am. I went through this whole scenario: birds might make a nest in my gutters (in which case I'd let them be nesty, and not clean that particular part) (and maybe I might kiss the eggs just a little), then snakes slither up there to eat bird eggs. Is that a realistic scenario? Please alert me if it is so I can blow off gutter cleaning.
Oh! I forgot! I took pictures yesterday with my barely working camera and my webcam, to encapsulate my non-Ned fun last night.
Here's Edsel's regular pose, gazing at me longingly while I do important things like look at Facebook. Did I mention the flash was broken on my iPhone? and usually it won't let me take any pictures at all? I'd take it in but see above reference to $81. I will take it in after payday, though, because this is bullshit. I'm a professional blogger.
HAH!
I also took time out of my busy schedule to torment Lily, who may or may not be ordering bombs from the Acme Company right now.
Oh, and here's I love the nightlife me putting on my pajamas at 8:30. Have become professional sadsack. I do love those pajamas, though. Thanks, mom.
You know what? There's an estate sale that started at 9 and it's six minutes away from me. Fuck it. Don't let me buy anything.
