I really, really, REALLY needed coffee this morning, so I thought I'd drive through the Scooters near the house and get latte, since I abhor the work coffee and have not yet dug out my four-cup (two mug) Hello Kitty coffee maker for the cube. I made it all the way to the parking lot and then had to turn around and leave because even the thought of talking to the little man in the window was much too overwhelming. THEN, since this is of course the ideal thing for me during a phobic phase, tonight I had to sit in an Outback and watch other people eat. Was not very excited about that. HOWEVER, it has come to my attention that I can watch YouTube on my phone if I'm not concerned about clarity of subtitle, so the evening was not a total waste.
Since I have clearly self-destructive tendencies, I signed up for an AGA lunch meeting next week located in a building downtown approximately thirty minutes away from work, because I need to work harder at pretending I give a flying hork at the moooooon about my career. I would join the American Society of Women Accountants to further fluff my resume, but work will only pay for one professional membership, and I already belong to two organizations. "Belong" defined as "pay $$$ dues to and receive irrelevant newsletters from." I cannot yet bring myself to participate actively in any of these. Rooms full of short-haired, suited women who are older than me and don't think I'm very cute or funny yet expect me to eat in front of them just DO NOT APPEAL. I am attending a professional development conference in Bellevue in November, and the idea of it makes me want to vomit. If I could make B or JL go with me, it would be easier, but unfortunately I am supposed to be the big mommy accountant. Whose misguided idea was that? Today the big mommy accountant had to take too many phone calls in a row and subsequently sat in a corner with the stuffed skunk for seven minutes in an ineffective attempt at regrouping.
I'm still waiting for Alexis.
The waitress refilled my diet Coke three times at Outback, yet I am still having a hard time even keeping my eyes open. I had to promise myself all kinds of improbable things to get myself out of bed this morning. At least she didn't try to make me eat toast like the lady at Village Inn once when I was watching Mecha and the boy eat pancakes and bacon. NORLYKTHX
I probably need to buy a coat. I really don't like the fat-girl coat I got last year and need an interim measure until I've slimmed sufficiently for my old pink one, or perhaps a new pink one. Old pink one dates I think winter 2000, but is in fairly good condition except a persistent small spot on the sleeve that is either blood or nail polish and also where Miyu ate some of the fur.
Sometimes I miss Miyu, but I live in terror that I will have to take Miyu back. Neither kitten has ever wet the carpet. Mimi has been known to do so. I am afraid that kittenen would follow the bad example and begin an endless cycle of horror. BUT if Mom were determined to dispose of him, I couldn't let him leave the family, especially since I brought him home in the first place. A thousand years ago.
Four years ago next week was the Fantastic Broken Hip Incident of 2005. I'll tell the story if I get at least three requests, but I'll warn you in advance it's not very inspiring. As a bonus I'll throw in the Broken Leg Miracle of Tax Day 2008. It's a lot funnier now.
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