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4/17/02 -

Wednesday
I have been eating a SHIT TON of cinnamon Altoids lately. There's this huge mega gigantor tin of them in the snack room which is a mere few little steps away from my work area. So every time I think 'hrm, my mouth could use a spicy burst of freshness', I trot happily to the Tin of Addiction and eat 2 or 3 of them. Seems this could be a potentially unhealthy habit - have there been any links between cinnamon and like brain cancer or anything?

Mmmm...oral fixation-y.

And the caffeine intake - whoah, daddy. It's through the roof. Espresso maker and Diet Coke within my reach at all times during the day? I'm all wound up like Denis Leary. In fact I stalk around the office taking staccato puffs from a cigarette and saying "Fuck" a whole bunch.

Nah, smoking is poo. I do occasionally drop the "F bomb" though. I'm offensive like that.

By the time I get home I'm all frazzled from the long busy work day and the massive caffeine dosing, smacking my lips at the stale taste of a thousand dead Altoids. Attractive, eh? (Rrrrow! Sexy like ze beast!) Then I have to do my rapid-fire data dump to JB. That's where I open my mouth and like a million words with absolutely no punctuation or continuity come out. If there is a basic subject, it is 'The Frustrations and Successes of My Day'. JB basically absorbs 3% of this blarble and the remainder is simply filler noise as we make dinner or whatever. I view this as cathartic and marks my official switch to personal time.

Here's something that I've been a total slut for lately - baths. Oh yeah. Long hot baths with girly bath stankum. Candles and everything. This is a recent thing because, and this is sort of gross and gives you way too much insight to my slovenliness, the tub has only been bath-worthy since Monday. Monday was the day Maid Brigade came, whupped ass and took names in our apartment. Before they got all medieval on the tub, it was sort of mungy and generally not the sort of place you wanted to lie in for long amounts of time. But now! Now it's all sparkly clean and just begging to be filled with Lemon Vanilla Bathing Gel and as much hot water as our pissant water heater can produce, which sometimes is as much as 3 ENTIRE CUPS!

Ok, so today we did the house inspection. The inspector seemed like a really nice guy, and he definitely embodied the word "thorough". If he could have transformed his body to liquid form and oozed all over the inner framework of the building looking for dust, he would have. He had this funky little gadget that emanated radio waves to detect moisture, these doohickeys that measured voltage, and a hippie-o-meter that sensed psychic vibes (result: 'mellow'). The bummer, dude, is that the roof is in Poor Shape. He is recommending that we get a roofing specialist to come out and do another inspection.

Ugh. So now we will launch into a whole new round of negotiations with the sellers - trying to get them to pay for the new inspection, potentially a new roof, etc. I'm all tense and squirelly about the whole thing, I just want to be in our pretty house with cool living room and the neat backyard and the fucking cedar-lined ceiling ALL RIGHT?! I'm afraid something is going to go wrong and we'll have to walk away from the whole deal and start all.over.again.

:::

In other breaking news, weather in Seattle occasionally craps it SIDEWAYS. It's been rainy and windy and generally yuck for days on end now. Spring? Hello? Please consider yourself officially invited to show up. Wear that one outfit...yeah, you know which one, you slut, the one with the flowers.

:::

Number of times have used the word "slut" in this entry: 2.
Cat hairs picked off black shirt: 48
Cat hairs remaining: 37219
Shock felt at realizing have missed Survivor for 2 weeks in a row without noticing: Severe
Tell it to my heart, my: achy breaky heart.

go back ::: forward

04.14.2002 - So a futile morning spent looking for a Sofa That Doesn't Suck, an object seeming more and more elusive, much like the Perfect Pair of Jeans and the Non UniBoob Sports Bra.
04.13.2002 - No quarters? No fucking problemo.
04.12.2002 - My theme song, lately, would be more like that cartoon scrambling-running sound they always made on The Flintstones.

0 comments so far.

I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004

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