Gimpy, the Eighth Dwarf No One Likes to Talk About
Zombied my way through the day, went home early to a delicious dinner cooked by my wonderful husband and passed out. Ain�t I exciting?
Big moving weekend this weekend. I will bet anyone that Travis will not be packed in time for people to help him move. I say this because in all the times we have helped him move he never has started packing before that morning.
To everyone out there. Don�t be an asshole. If you want people to help you move, have shit ready for them to move. If you need help packing, ask people to come over the day before and help you pack. What you should not do is have people show up with their trucks and all ready to help you move and have your shit spread all over the house and a �DUH� look on your face.
I know this is going to happen because it�s Wednesday and he hasn�t packed a single thing. He is moving Sunday. He doesn�t even have boxes. He hasn�t even started sorting out what is his in the kitchen. Sunday we will all be sitting around looking at each other while Travis bumps around upstairs, struggling like a wild beast to finally pull his head out of his ass.
I wish they could figure out the temperature at work. It�s either so hot that you are sweating or so cold your fingers are numb. At it doesn�t seem to depend on your clothes either, I could come in a wool sweater and get the same feeling. I used to think it was just me and I was going through extremely premature menopause. But since basically everyone on our floor has a jacket or sweater and a pair of mittens at their desk I am guessing that we aren�t having group hot flashes.
J gets the big househusband of the year award. As usual. He made me a really great dinner last night and helped me with my peanut butter pie for our potluck today. Seriously, if I made enough money I would let him stay home forever. But as it stands, I have a huge wish list at Banana Republic so he needs to get a job. I am sure he will soon. Even in this economy he is really well qualified for a lot of things.
I am walking a little gimpy today. My legs are very stiff and sore from softball on Monday. I don�t know why it�s always the second day that kills me. Of course I want to look all nice so I wore heels�they are pretty low but they aren�t my sneakers either. It�s not like I look professional. It�s hard to look professional when you are hobbling around like a little old lady with a hyperactive hamster shoved up her ass. I think even Gwenyth Paltrow would have a hard time pulling that off.
