I took a bunch of sunset photos tonight. I never really use my zoom lens but damn, it was worth it.
I can’t figure out what the objects are that are blocking the sun. I imagine they’re either billboards or the standard dueling signs that point you toward 95 north or south. Miami or West Palm Beach? Either way, the roads are filled with old people and foreigners, but there’s always room for you. 🙂
I’ve been super-emotional today. (Every sentence in this entry starts with “I.” Deal with it.) Perhaps it’s because I’ve forgotten my meds for a few days. Or else it must be *that* time of the month, which I don’t even calendar anymore because I got hit with four cycles at once, then nothing for two months, and now who the fuck knows.
I’ve had a weird week. It’s been busy but it hasn’t *felt* busy. The past two weeks were exhausting and aggravating, to say the least. But this week has downright flown. As a dear friend reminded me, I’m a hard worker at heart, and it’s not really work when you’re not clock-watching every 10 minutes on the nose. (Thank you for that reminder. I needed it!)
The freelance job I love is trying to budget to bring me on full-time. God willing, that will happen. I don’t know that I’ll let the other stuff go, or let it go right away, but it’s the first time in a long time that I didn’t accept a job offer and go throw up and ask God to, please for the love of You, let me have chosen right.
The extra-terrestrial being told me, yet again, how MEAN I am today. She said, five minutes ago, “Can we go get a roll of paper towels?” And I said, simply, “No.”
Now, her car works just fine and I know I have a dollar in my wallet if she wants it. But I just wasn’t in the mood for a field trip at 7:55 p.m. Especially since I still haven’t gotten to Apple for my software upgrade. And that’s a good half-hour drive away. And did I mention I look like the Wreck of the Hesperus?
Yeah. Just because *someone* curled her hair and put on makeup 10 hours ago, as she does every day, in hopes that I would offer to take her for a ride doesn’t mean everyone else has anything more than a scrubbed butt. (And we’re under a water-conservation warning. The Intracoastal Waterway that you see in the photo? I could WALK across and barely get my calves wet.)
Anyhoodle, showering is about all I manage to do these days. I have a tan, my hair is almost pure blonde, and I really don’t much care about anything else. Where is there to go when you’re conserving money?
While I was out trying to take photos, of course the local poltergeist came out to haunt me. She has all damn day to sit on the balcony, but of course she waits till the two times I run out for fresh air. (I’m out of smokes, so fresh air it is.)
I got called “mean” outside when she told me to zoom in my camera on the man she’s declared to be my “husband” as he was at the communal grill. I said Jesus H, woman. I never want to be around anyone I date 24/7, 4 weeks a month, 12 months a year and five years and counting like I am around her. Who the hell would want to be near me when they have to have her surgically attached to my other hip? Christ, I don’t want to spend this much time with people I LIKE, you know?
She declared she’s pleasant, unlike me. I informed her she’s unbearable, incorrigible and passive-aggressive. 🙂
I am at that point where, if someone put a gun and one single bullet in my hand, it would be a HARD decision whether to use it on her, find my ex-boss’ evil sidekick (I’d say that’s the brains of the operation but it’s more like the least-useful opinion with the loudest voice), or aim at my own temple. Really, it’s a toss-up.
What brings me joy, though, is the fact that the cat refuses to clean her ass and insists on scooching her filthy crack all over the houseguest’s white sheets. (Which overjoys me, until the houseguest whines as she did just now, “You hate me that much? You’re mean!”)
In any event, with my beloved cat’s shitty (ahem) hygiene, it shows God really does love me after all. So maybe I’ll put down the hypothetical gun and just get my little kicks on Florida State Road 806. (Where the hell is that, anyway?)
Ah, well. Maybe tomorrow will be better. I’ve got lots of work to do this weekend, and I’m marching in the local gay parade. (Hoo-RAY, Sweetie!)
Christ, if that’s what it takes to get me out of the house, I will take it. Sign me up for every damn event parading through this one-whore town!