This diary is so short and dull that I put off even reading it, let alone writing it.
Gee, I gave away the ending in the title... but these things always end the same, don't they?
This is a hard one, absolutely nothing happened this week worth penning, yet here I am typing. What a challenge!
Isn't “challenged” a euphemism for “retarded”?
I found some unopened mail in the living room last Sunday. One piece was a check from the mortgage company - they won't take less than the full amount. So I could have saved the interest charges on the expensive loan I took out to cover the even more expensive daily bank fees they were charging my daughter... at any rate, I had some cash.
I went to bed early Sunday night, and had trouble getting up Monday morning. The Paxil had me sleepy and queasy. It passed by the time I got to work.
As I was making changes to about 300 web pages, Married lady bounded in.
Married Lady has beady little eyes and curly hair, like a poodle. In fact, one of the bosses mentioned to me that Married Lady reminded her of a poodle, with her wild hair and doglike over-affection. I remarked that I preferred “too friendly” to surly.
Monday afternoon she wanted me to walk around the building with her on a break. So I did. She kept bumping my arm with her tittie.
Wednesday I got a $600 gas bill. I’d just paid the gas bill!
So I went to the gas company to find out what was up, and the check had bounced. Fuck. I'm going to stop writing checks. This is expensive!
The bank said I had $400 of the grand I had deposited. But at least I wasn't overdrawn. I hope they don't shut off my gas again.
Daughter Patty came home from work, got in the car and it wouldn't start. The battery was completely drained, without a hint of electricity in anything. So I checked the water, and it was low. Real low. I filled it up and stuck the charger on it.
The battery never woke back up. I'm walking again until I can get it to a battery shop.
Friday morning Married Lady blew me a kiss, and Friday afternoon she said I was cute.
Shit. The only woman in the whole damned world that wants it from me is married.
Shit shit shit shit shit!
I went to bed early Friday night, without even going out. I've been kind of lethargic lately, not sure if it's the drug or symptoms peeking past the drug's mask. I think the latter.
I forgot to drug myself when I woke up. I've been doing that more and more often lately. Laid around the house all day without doing anything constructive, and walked down to Dempsey's for some music.
The music sucked. There was one guy with an acoustic guitar singing Locomotive Breath. And he stretched it out to about fifteen minutes.
Two ladies sat down at the bar next to me, one fumbling around for a lighter. Crap, I forgot my lighter.
Then I noticed they were both wearing wedding rings. In fact, I think every single woman in the place was married.
I went home early. At least I saved a little beer money.
I wrote this thing on Sunday or Monday and couldn't get into K5. Since then, I got the gas bill paid and bought a battery for the junker. And the mortgage company sent me a letter saying they are starting foreclosure proceedings.