Today was really frustrating. Well, hold the gramophone, it started out last night when , as my friend Erica left, I realized how exhausted i was. I couldn’t WAIT to get to bed. But when it was time to crawl into bed, the same creepy crawlies grabbed onto my body and wouldn’t let go and to the couch I went. I watched 5 episodes of sex and the city and then slithered into bed. And that’s where the fun began. When I climbed into bed I practically landed nostril first on Factor’s open palm. Then he flipped over and took all the blankets with him. I started to fall into a deep sleep - and was abruptly yanked back into waking world with a severe elbow to the top of my head. I think he thought i was a burglar because he brained me. Then it was just a continuous cycle of violent flipping and flopping and bouncing and grunting. Needless to say, I didn’t get a good sleep and I kind of wanted to yell at him to just freakin’ relax. I made a really good dinner last night, so I kind of think our bellies were too full and the digestion was too active for sleep.
Anyway, I thought I had an interview today for a company, but it was actually an interviewish moment with a placement agency. I kind of figured that out from their website, but I really thought it was for a position there, so I was a few beats off while talking. the girls were really nice though and I welcome the help with an open mind. Gail pointed me in that direction so of course I’m grateful for the hook up. I also got a call on the way there from this company I submitted my resume to. I will call them today after I clean my kitchen. there is a distinctly anchovy smell mutating into a garlic clove wafting through this place and it makes me throw up a little in my mouth.
The final straw of frustration has to do with young Factor, who did I typical cliche boy thing recently, but I only got word of it today. You know the ole “lack of communication” bone of contention? Yeah. Let’s just say that he either forgot or didn’t know information about an event. I agreed to plans for a certain day. Then suddenly he knows that that’s the date of this other event. Instead of telling them that he’s a dumbass who never shared the information, what does he do? Blames the girlfriend. And girls, you KNOW that anger. It’s the whole “don’t make me look like that girl when I’m really not being that girl” I mean, please - I provide plenty of REAL moments of being that girl, so there is no need to fabricate it. And back in high school, remember how guys would always hate the other guys gf (because that’s highschool for you). Now we know why, don’t we. Because they blame us for their assinine-ness.
But it’s a good thing I don’t blog angry.
