This is a short one.
My boy is in the shower, on the phone and I am microwaving my coffee. Microwaved coffee is the stinkiest.
I am leaving, making deposits, paying my friend Dr. Steinberg, and going home to reorganize some shit.
I still haven’t returned home for Christmas and the guilt is spreading. They fucked with my schedule again, so I fucked them right back. Now I do Tuesdays and Thursdays, and have my weekends free to do fun shit, which will be Philadelphia and hopefully a Boston Montreal stint. Kind of ghetto-touring with Morningwood, but we pretty much get to sleep in our own beds at night so it’s all good.
Which leads me to the next problem, which is when the hell am I gonna be able to go back and take care of Christmas obligations. This weekend is off. Tuesday I gotta work anyways, and Monday is V day. Next weekend is Philly, the weekend after is Boston and possibly Montreal. Perhaps I can take a little stint to Mass beforehand and just deal with it. Who knows…inevitably it’s all an anxiety filled semi-nightmare anyways. But I need to try and be a better daughter anyways so…
Bla bla bla. It’s sunny out. I dig it. I am going to this place in the village to get finger puppets and pretty girl stuff for my nieces. Everyone else is getting linoleum prints. They better like them, because they will be badass.
Anyhow. Life is good. Spring is in the air. It’s getting warmer as the days wane on. Bring on that hot stinky summer heat, bitches. It is my favorite, after all.
Summer is my favorite too. Here’s a pledge – this summer we will BOTH go ride the cyclone, hang out with Beatrice and be freaks at Coney Island. Yay!