|
09.28.03 September - 1:27 PM
sunday Sunday SUNDAY! You can buy a seat but you'll only need the edge! (that's a Phil-ism taken from a Monster Road Alley or WWF commercial I'm sure) So yes, it's Sunday. Usually on a Sunday I'm out somewhere enjoying the last few hours of a dying weekend drinking beer, or shopping, or watching a marathon of Trading SpacesWhile You Were Out episodes, or even something constructive - like finishing the next level of Diablo II. This Sunday I'm sitting here at the computer thinking that I should be working. The key word is 'thinking' as I haven't managed to put any of my Sunday effort into doing it. Why Sunday? Why work? Why, I'm glad you asked. You see, on Tuesday I'm moving into a spanking new apartment. "New", I may clarify here, as in "new to me". Because of this fact, I know damn well that I'm not going to be able to put any time into doing my work for Joe, which in this case is (wait for it) writing documentation. I'm going to be honest here. There's nothing worse than reading computer documentation then having to write it. I've got some sort of brain block towards it. I've already put off doing it for the last three weeks. Now it MUST be done. On a Sunday. Hee. Notice that I'm writing a journal entry instead of writing documentation? I hope that irony isn't lost on anybody. SO YES. A new apartment. Kevin and I will actually be living together again. Huzzah. We had been looking for places for the last month. We were going to go for this very trendy loft type place but the neighborhood was ... let's just say there's still too much of the suburban white girl residing in me to pull it off successfully. Not to mention that there wasn't anywhere to smoke. I don't smoke in my own house (ok, so maybe I do, unless I'm living with a non smoker who also happens to have really bad asthma) so I have to go outside. In those lofts I'd have to go down two flight of stairs and through the lobby to go outside. Mind you, sometimes I go outside to smoke in my jammies... ...which reminds me. I was staying at my dad's house a couple weeks back because my parents had gone on vacation and they didn't want my little sister to be all by herself (read: have a party). So on Monday morning of that week (which was also my first day at my new job) my sister had left for school, and I jumped outside real quick (in my jammies) for a cigarette. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to check the door locks and locked myself out of the house. In my jammies. On my first day of work. I had left my phone and keys and everything else inside the house and obviously my sister had already gone and I didn't know any of the neighbors but what was I going to say to them anyhow, "Hi! I'm Allan's fucked up older daughter who likes to smoke in her jammies, can I use your phone please?" Yeah so, I broke down the door. Thankfully, and in the same way, a wee bit frightening to think about, it wasn't hard at all. Three hip jabs and I was in. My dad still complains that he finds springs from the door knob all over the place. But I'm straying from the point. Which is the new apartment. It's on the East side so we can pretty much walk where ever we need to go. I'm really excited. Kevin and I hit a bunch of rummage sales yesterday (another ironic thing as we had a rummage sale 6 months ago to rid ourselves of all our stuff) and spent $86 dollars and got a bunch of cool shit. Real cherry wood desk - $40 Brand new dinette with two chairs - $45 Sweater - $1 Two plants, tablecloth, camping gear, garland (don't ask), and one silver picture frame - FREE! Weeeee! I love rummage sales. I especially love rummage sales that end early because the people got tired and just put all their shit out on the curb to be picked up for FREE! Amused. Easily. So me. Anyhow, I should get going. You know, that work thing. Thanks for stopping by. And you know, if you want to send an email or an IM any time in the next hour or so I'll respond right away, I really will. Because you know, documentation. |
|
