Dr. Boy is back to traveling. He'll be working at another school all fall. As a consequence, I have trashed the house by living like I'm single. WHOOPS! Time to clean.
My job is in the SuperCrazyBusyFuckFuckFuck time of year. I thought I'd dropped the ball, but it turns out that I am planning genius who's allowed flexibility to accommodate awesome new plan. That must be promoted and executed in the 6 busiest weeks of the school year. I am a blur.
The crazy has set in. I took on 4 clerks at NY Central Art Supply in the end of day rush to get the product I special ordered. That they accidentally put out for sale and never called me about. That I had them put on hold for me. That they lost. And then motherfucking found for me. Now I'm emailing Japan for something else. I think they make medication for this.
Went to see Muffin, Tater, and the Husband without a Food Name. Had a great time, and got to hang out with Mallory thanks to Facebook. They're going through a rough time right now, and I know that they can benefit from your prayers. There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just blurt it out.
Queen fall down. A lot. I think it's some kind of palsy. He get ow-wees. I know what you're wondering: is he OK? Nope. There is some rumor that Mack can help him, but frankly, Mack is MIA. It all seems to fall on Speed Racer. And, Mater is nowhere to be fucking found.
Then again, Queen haf bug in teef. Yucky. So, y'know, Queen could be a raging fucking drunk. It's hard to say. It was a little touch and go, but Tater seems to be managing the situation admirably with lots of hugs for Queen and the occasional sugary snack.
I can tell that you're as relieved as I am.
2 comments:
So, does this mean you're too busy to go to the CBA open house with me at 4pm on Saurday and learn Miriam Schaer's transfer techniques?
FYI the last two paragraphs of this post make me think someone might have sneaked up behind you and beaned you on the head with June. Cuckoo!
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