duck duck goose
Dec. 6th, 2000 10:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kitsplutMy fridge contains twelve cans of Coke, a two-month-old jar of grape jelly, and a cup full of condiment packets which I somehow felt compelled to squirrel away. My rutilated quartz power beads are frozen to the bottom of the freezer. After I've eaten all the food in there, I will get the hair dryer and attempt to set them free.
I have to go see Blonde Michelle today. She's prly going to be mad at me, because I missed my appointment on Friday. I thought the one today was supposed to be instead of that one, not in addition to it.
I'm sure I'll have something snarky to say about it later.
I should write a letter to my non-taser grandma. Dad's mother. She is going to be ninety in March, dislikes my mother, tells me I'm her favorite, and thinks I hate her. I don't hate her. I just become discouraged when she runs to Daddydear with everything I tell her, twisting it to make me look like the bitch from hell. I really don't remember her being so psychotic when I was younger. I would say she's getting senile, but she's remarkably coherent and prly picks up on more than I think she does. I just don't know what to say to her anymore that won't lead to Dad blowing a gasket.
I definitely get to go see that boy, but I need not to think about it until I'm home. I have enough to occupy myself with over the next couple weeks without having premature hissy fits about my hair.
oh hell. Today is Add Sheet Day. Hello, machine gun men. There are two machine gun women this year, too. I feel really bad that they have to stand out there in the cold, waving ads at college students who consider them a lower form of life than one-celled amoeba, but not bad enough to fill my backpack with coupons for fake-baking and oil changes.
My backpack is full enough as is. I wondered where all my pencils went, and I found twelve in the bottom yesterday. Maybe I will be lucky, and one will have lead in it.
It snowed a little bit. I am no end thrilled.
I have to go see Blonde Michelle today. She's prly going to be mad at me, because I missed my appointment on Friday. I thought the one today was supposed to be instead of that one, not in addition to it.
I'm sure I'll have something snarky to say about it later.
I should write a letter to my non-taser grandma. Dad's mother. She is going to be ninety in March, dislikes my mother, tells me I'm her favorite, and thinks I hate her. I don't hate her. I just become discouraged when she runs to Daddydear with everything I tell her, twisting it to make me look like the bitch from hell. I really don't remember her being so psychotic when I was younger. I would say she's getting senile, but she's remarkably coherent and prly picks up on more than I think she does. I just don't know what to say to her anymore that won't lead to Dad blowing a gasket.
I definitely get to go see that boy, but I need not to think about it until I'm home. I have enough to occupy myself with over the next couple weeks without having premature hissy fits about my hair.
oh hell. Today is Add Sheet Day. Hello, machine gun men. There are two machine gun women this year, too. I feel really bad that they have to stand out there in the cold, waving ads at college students who consider them a lower form of life than one-celled amoeba, but not bad enough to fill my backpack with coupons for fake-baking and oil changes.
My backpack is full enough as is. I wondered where all my pencils went, and I found twelve in the bottom yesterday. Maybe I will be lucky, and one will have lead in it.
It snowed a little bit. I am no end thrilled.