Tag Archives: day off

10,000 & A Day

24 Apr

image

As SWAL swiftly broaches her 10,000th read, I live out the rest of “day off,” which still technically had me working, only this time from home, in my pjs.

…I need to get a fulltime gig that allows me to do this, for reals.

Part one of the day had me awake and answering emails at 6am, and telling the necessary people that this would be the total extent of my working relationship with them for the day.

…WHS Pimp took it with silence, Boss took it to mean, “I’ll just transmit all the phone mssgs into text as they come in thru the day, and magically do close outs and reports, without a printer, via my phone.”

…So naturally, I told him where to get off, and that I was done fwding the first load of crap for the day, had been up since 4, and needed a nap and cold meds now, then signed off.

By 11, I was up and at it again, only this time made it all the way to the couch. A major feat. It’s as far as I got for the day.

…Until about 9pm, when I had to dye hairs.

…Then pick up Marty from rehearsal…

…Then back home to more cold meds, a hot toddy…and bed.

Bed.

I love you bed.

…And my pillow.

…And my readers.

(Which is you.)

~D

Free Day

23 Mar

image

Slept in.

9:30.

Hurrah.

Double-fisting coffee and hot cocoa.

Country potatoes and a breakfast scramble.

More BBC.

Yarn balling.

Dyed hair.

…And part of my forehead.

Accidentally.

Long drive to peninsula.

Swedish pastry cookies.

Lunch by the water. 

Salad with almond slivers.

Fanta orange.

Why do I love it so much?

Still.

More BBC.

Next series.

(Killed the last one.)

Want salt.

Other than in a shaker, I have none.

Crochet some more to  keep my mind off it.

Two fingers of gin.

Bombay Sapphire.

Queens-own.

Straight.

…Poured out in a Casablanca glass.

Remember I forgot to blog.

Hope bullet updates fill up enough space to make it look like I actually wrote something today.

Know that this is lame, and admit it.

Sip on my gin.

…Always reminds me of Christmas. 

It’s like drinking a pine tree.

But in a good way.

…In a good way?

Consider washing face so can move this all into my bed.

No, you can’t come.

Get your mind outta the gutter.

It’s ALWAYS in the gutter.

…And lets be real: this is why we are friends.

Kisses,

~D

%d bloggers like this: