Feb. 17th, 2006

dreamcatchings: (riot)
Oh, god goddamn.

Here I am. Up at an insane hour in the morning on my day off because it may very well not actually be my day off today. Dale was out Wednesday and Thursday. I tried to call him last night to see if he'd been in and no answer. So I hauled my ass out of bed to call the store this morning. Just tried. Fucking answering machine leik whoa.

I really, really, really do not want to go in today. I've got my own shit that needs to be done not to mention that I need downtime or I will flip out on you like nobody's buisness.

I'm giving him five minutes and trying again before I get dressed and haul ass over there.

ETA: Ding, ding, ding! Bonus life! I'm going back to bed.

ETA 2: Or not so much because I have a very hard time getting to sleep when the sun is up. Oh, well. Time to go downstairs, make coffee, breakfast and watch Red Dwarf until I'm less cranky.
dreamcatchings: (contemplation)
As per a promise I made to myself and to [livejournal.com profile] laele75, I am cleaning my room.

Not that it's dirty. Perhaps a little unkept and a tad bit dusty but nowhere near a pigsty by a long shot.

No, my promise was to attempt to declutter. I am a massive pack rat, but even I can appreciate the fact that I no longer need manuals and receipts for electrical equipment that is no longer even in my possession. Or batteries that may or may not work depending on how many times I turn the device on. Or all these empty boxes because one day I might find the perfect thing to go into it.

We'll see how it goes.
dreamcatchings: (let it go)
The prime directive of cardboard boxes is to somehow, someway find a way to get those prats back to their original state: flat.

The light of my 2004 Sunset Concert glow sticks keeps me hopeful. Yes, I kept a couple. What can I say? I touch them and remember. Hell, I'm almost right back there, which is really why I have all this junk. Every single thing contains a memory.

One day my past will drown me.

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Sara

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