You know what that means? Im nervous as hell! The state of my apartment. The state of my job. The state of the union. The state of the WORLD! Im so fussed up right now.
Ill be flying into Heathrow airport in a couple of weeks. On a plane that says AMERICAN AIRLINES on it in big, bold letters. Smack in the middle of terrorist threats, ground to aircraft missiles, and hand grenades.
I was handed an assignment today (technically, tonight .as it was given to me at 5:30) that will take me at least a week to complete. And they want it by the end of the day on Monday.
I will be picking up a man who I think is mighty fine at the airport tomorrow evening and I must make a wonderful impression on him by showing him a good time this weekend. But Im still not sure how to entertain him here in this still new, mostly unfamiliar city.
Im trying to sweep all traces of cat hair out of my apartment because of Canuks allergies, while my kitty bounces around waving his tail in the air like he just dont care. Ive shut off the bedroom, and Im washing the duvet cover as I type.
Dude booked his flight to come visit me next weekend. WTF am I supposed to do?
Best Bud keeps calling me, unloading the gory details of her love affair. I feel so guilty for not giving her shit as she tears her marriage apart. Am I being a horrible friend for being accepting of her cheating? Does it mean I dont care? Because I do. I just never thought that she should have gotten married in the first place, quite honestly. And I told her that beforehand when she unloaded herself on me then, telling me that she didnt think that she could be faithful. Maybe Im being a good friend for not saying, I told you so. I dont know. But I still feel some kind of yucky guilt. She just called as I was typing this paragraph, and I avoided answering. I dont know what to say anymore.
I miss my parents.
Im wearing boots that make my feet smell gross.
What a mess.
I need to go put my sheets, etc. in the dryer now.
I just had to get that out. Much better.
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