Rambling and the Interruption of the Space Time Continuum.

Well, father's knee surgery is all done. He's supposed to get out of the hospital today. And I'm sleeping again.

I was thinking earlier about how, when we were both quite a bit younger, I'd forget to feed Deanna lunch. Sometimes. When I was a teenager, not so long ago, I'd get up around 11 and not eat until 2 or 3. Poor Deanna had been up since 7 and, breakfast long behind her, would just go about her business, until I remembered that she needed to eat.

How is this kid not more messed up? I'll have to buy her some sort of guilt snack while we're at the mall today. Many a present have I purchased for Deanna fueled by the concern that I've screwed her up forever. That's what we call good parenting in these parts.

I blame all this nostalgia on the fact that Brian and I are both in the house on a Saturday afternoon. It's been approximately fifteen million years since that happened. When I'm here, he's visiting his girlfriend. When he's here, I'm off visiting my best ladies. But apparently there's trouble in paradise, so Brian is stuck here this weekend and The Space Time Continuum has been thrown entirely out of whack.

So if clocks start flying around your house and your cat starts talking, I'm v. v. sorry. That's what I assume would happen if the Space Time Continuum ran into trouble. And I'm not really sorry about the cat talking thing, because that would just be cool.

Okay, I'll stop now. Humblest apologies.

Insomniac Attack

Apparently it's that time of year. The time where I don't sleep. I'm awake and cold and angry about being awake and cold.

It was inevitable, I've reached that point where my job is no longer new and exciting. I no longer skip to the bus stop in anticipation of the day ahead. I don't hate it, but I am unable to muster up the enthusiasm I once did. Some lady yelled at me today for not being 'Deanna'. Sorry lady, I was born this way. Another lady got angry at me because she'd lost her car keys. Sorry lady, I got bored, decided to steal some keys.

The hot roofer, mentioned in the previous blog, is still working around the building. My girl boner for him has only increased in size with our interactions and his ridiculously beautiful smile. I thought about wearing one of my favourite work-inappropriate shirts today and flirting shamelessly. Then I wised up and decided I didn't want to get fired/called a hooker.

I've hardly seen Deanna since I started on my regular shift at work. I think she's gotten taller. In the past three days. Sneaky jerk. She spent fifteen minutes getting ready for bed tonight. How is that possible when you're twelve and you spend approximately 2.7 seconds brushing your teeth? It concerns me that her ways are becoming mysterious to me.

Also? My dad is in the hospital. He fell last week and broke his knee cap. Had he gotten his knee checked out right away, he probably wouldn't have had to have the surgery. But because he is a bonehead, he waited and now has to have his knee cap pinned back together. This is probably the reason I'm not sleeping, even though he sounds fine and I claim that I'm not worried. I guess I am. I hate my brain. I'd rather be manifestly worried at a decent hour of the day and able to sleep at night. Boo everything.

Employee of the Week.

Training at work is kind of like being a toddler. Everyone is very patient with you and when you do well they tell you how amazing you are. Well, that's what it was like for ME as a toddler. Back when everyone still thought I was cool.

But I've been on straight days this week which means I'm getting up before six AM. That's just wrong, where I come from. But they let me play with a walkie-talkie at work, and I'm fairly certain I've already discussed how much I enjoy that. I have, thus far, resisted the urge to give the maintenance men code names, the better to communicate over the walkie-talkie. It's been a very near thing.

I'm also like, in heat or something. Working where I do, I see a lot of people stream in and out of the building, but my favourite, by far, are all the contractors we have working there. Roof and electrical right now, and I must say, I've been molesting them with my eyes. And hands.

I told Susan I was going to sabotage the pants off the roofer. I'm so getting arrested.

Also? I nearly assaulted a SWAT-esque guy while I was down at the police station getting my background check done. It was hardly my fault. They shouldn't walk around with their full uniform, flak jacket and thigh holster on. That's just irresponsible. I can see how it could have gone badly, but in my head there was a lot more tearing off of my clothes and a lot less "ma'am, I'm going to have to cuff you if you don't cease and desist."

It's too cold to live. And the garbage cans outside keep blowing away. Fuck life.

Shut up World!

I have a friggen hell ass job. Not a temp position. Not seasonal work. A real goddamn job.

No more sitting around in a robe all day long for me! No more wallowing in my own filth!

Well, maybe sometimes. On special occasions.

I was going to post a picture of me doing something celebratory, but I can't unearth anything appropriate. You'll just have to cobble something together in your mind.

Guelph to celebrate the anniversary of Jo's birthday tomorrow!