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19 August 2005

A desire to swear

And just for clarification - I'm talking P R O F A N I T I E S. Not anything pathetic like heart felt crap or shiney knight oaths. Just swear. All those really good, four letter words my mother always frowned upon. That kind of swearing.

It's just one of those days at work. You know, the turn-around-and-smuck-a-wall kind of days. Why is it that as the species supposedly smarter than monkeys (I'm doubtful simply because when I initially spelled monkeys, I dropped the 'y' and added 'ies') that we just can't quite make it on the same page when we are living and breathing and working ON THE SAME BLOODY PAGE??? Retards. #%&$ing retards.

My best friend is at her cottage and I miss her. She makes me laugh with things that I don't think she expects to make me laugh with, but she does. She's quirky and strong and a general old bulldog if you harm a hair on anyone's head whom she has dibs on. I never feel like I'm as good a friend to her as she is to me, but then she keeps hanging out with me, so I'll just take that as a good sign. She's definately a cool chick. Especially when nothing I say shocks her. If anything, she's the only person that seems to ever completely understand. I'm thankful for her. She would be the one reminding me that I wasn't all in the wrong with J and that he was a big ole turd and that she hated him. But she would also be the one to have my back and push herself and her own feelings to the backburner so long as I said I loved him. It's pretty amazing. Because she loves me, she would love him. Regardless of how much she loathed him.

What was I complaining about? Oh, that's right. Nothing important.


1 comment:

Curious Jane said...

I LOVE YOU and I am so glad I snooped and found your blog!! I really needed to read that.