funny little noises of my tummy
Apr. 28th, 2005 09:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7My tummy is very empty and so it's making these odd little whispery-grindey-gurgley noises up in the back of my throat, kinda. It's funny how the sensation nerves on internal parts present such confused impressions of tactile sense-- like when I swallow something cold and I think I can feel the cold on the back of the skin of my chest.
Anyhow. Yes. I should just get up and eat breakfast.
I got out just in time to catch the bus last night. Things were fairly busy, I ran around and made some money, and I even scored some extra food to bring home. (I had a lovely table of eight older gentlemen who ran up a $100 tab and left me a $20 tip and amused me by spending the whole time making fun of one another. They were all Canadian, all over sixty, and I've no idea where they were going or why, as I was quite busy then. But I do know that seven beers on a tray is a very very heavy thing. Remind me next time to take two trips. But I didn't spill anything.)
So I got out and skipped down to the bus shelter cheerfully, dialling Dave to say "yay you don't have to come drive a bunch more to get me" (i hate making him pick me up, especially as he'd just been near the airport on his way back from Rochester. He already spends three hours a day in the car.) And i sat there waiting for the 8:28 "30" bus to University Station.
...
At 8:45 the 24 (Downtown) showed up. I asked the bus driver if he could ask his dispatcher whether or not the 30 had left already. Maybe it had gone ten minutes early; I'd only showed up eight minutes early, and I know it's not a crowded bus, but it seems a bit pointless to me to have a bus run its route early, especially if it's the last one on that route for the night.
After a long time the dispatcher called back: The 30 was broken down and would be delayed. It would come by, but God only knows when.
So I called Dave to come get me. I wasn't feeling up to sitting in that bus shelter until Whenever.
In the meantime I phoned up my sister Fiona to congratulate her on her New "Real Job!". And confirmed that yes, I still make more money than she does. ^.^ I feel a tiny bit better, despite not being able to pay my bills. (I've deferred my five-digit student loan so long now that the interest has been capitalized-- isn't that awesome? I now owe them more money than I did when I started paying. But they don't mind one bit, unlike the Toyota people who would take the car away, so I'll just let my debt grow in the interests of not losing the car.)
Dave came and got me, and we came home and ate dinner entirely composed of the food I'd brought home. (Nobody else at work understands how much money that saves me, just to bring home leftovers. My food budget is still larger than I'd like, but I'm just not willing to do without all the grocery-store extras and I don't have the energy right now to plan cheapie meals.)
And then we sat at the table until nearly midnight just having a conversation, and that was really nice. We drank a bit-- Dave discovered that Black Balsam plus cherry brandy plus Coke equals tasty yet highly-alcoholic Dr. Pepper, so I tried that. And we talked about all kinds of fun things, and it was nice. And then I went to bed, and there was some snuggling, and that was nice.
This morning it dawned golden and bright, but now it's dark and pouring rain, and I've just remembered that I forgot to take out the garbage and so the garbage can is sitting in the driveway and getting filled with water, and smells awful and gross and has chicken bones in it. So unless Dave was clever and awesome on his way out the door to go to school, we're going to have to deal with the discarded and rotting rack of that roasted chicken for the next week. Ugh.
edited to add:
3 things.
1) Was looking over what I wrote on the Newton yesterday. Dude, i was not ok. But some of it's kind of amusing. tonight or tomorrow I'll post some of my more insane rantings. There's one kind of disturbing bit of flash fiction that reads like somebody else wrote it. Dude I was fucked-up yesterday.
2) Dave took out the garbage. Awesome.
3) Fiona is going to a trade show in Manhattan this weekend and she gets to be booth candy.
"I have to wear samples of next season's line," she said. "Well, samples are always size small, and I'm not. So the skirts? Fit me at waist and thus are really short." ... "Oh, I'm not allowed to speak." Me: "What?" Her: "I'm not allowed to talk at this trade show. Well. I can make conversation. But I'm not allowed to do any selling or talk about the products. I don't know enough yet. So yes, I am there to be booth candy." Me: "Sweet!"
I need to start making t-shirts again (I used to be heavy into silkscreening) and make her a shirt that says "booth candy" on it.
Anyhow. Yes. I should just get up and eat breakfast.
I got out just in time to catch the bus last night. Things were fairly busy, I ran around and made some money, and I even scored some extra food to bring home. (I had a lovely table of eight older gentlemen who ran up a $100 tab and left me a $20 tip and amused me by spending the whole time making fun of one another. They were all Canadian, all over sixty, and I've no idea where they were going or why, as I was quite busy then. But I do know that seven beers on a tray is a very very heavy thing. Remind me next time to take two trips. But I didn't spill anything.)
So I got out and skipped down to the bus shelter cheerfully, dialling Dave to say "yay you don't have to come drive a bunch more to get me" (i hate making him pick me up, especially as he'd just been near the airport on his way back from Rochester. He already spends three hours a day in the car.) And i sat there waiting for the 8:28 "30" bus to University Station.
...
At 8:45 the 24 (Downtown) showed up. I asked the bus driver if he could ask his dispatcher whether or not the 30 had left already. Maybe it had gone ten minutes early; I'd only showed up eight minutes early, and I know it's not a crowded bus, but it seems a bit pointless to me to have a bus run its route early, especially if it's the last one on that route for the night.
After a long time the dispatcher called back: The 30 was broken down and would be delayed. It would come by, but God only knows when.
So I called Dave to come get me. I wasn't feeling up to sitting in that bus shelter until Whenever.
In the meantime I phoned up my sister Fiona to congratulate her on her New "Real Job!". And confirmed that yes, I still make more money than she does. ^.^ I feel a tiny bit better, despite not being able to pay my bills. (I've deferred my five-digit student loan so long now that the interest has been capitalized-- isn't that awesome? I now owe them more money than I did when I started paying. But they don't mind one bit, unlike the Toyota people who would take the car away, so I'll just let my debt grow in the interests of not losing the car.)
Dave came and got me, and we came home and ate dinner entirely composed of the food I'd brought home. (Nobody else at work understands how much money that saves me, just to bring home leftovers. My food budget is still larger than I'd like, but I'm just not willing to do without all the grocery-store extras and I don't have the energy right now to plan cheapie meals.)
And then we sat at the table until nearly midnight just having a conversation, and that was really nice. We drank a bit-- Dave discovered that Black Balsam plus cherry brandy plus Coke equals tasty yet highly-alcoholic Dr. Pepper, so I tried that. And we talked about all kinds of fun things, and it was nice. And then I went to bed, and there was some snuggling, and that was nice.
This morning it dawned golden and bright, but now it's dark and pouring rain, and I've just remembered that I forgot to take out the garbage and so the garbage can is sitting in the driveway and getting filled with water, and smells awful and gross and has chicken bones in it. So unless Dave was clever and awesome on his way out the door to go to school, we're going to have to deal with the discarded and rotting rack of that roasted chicken for the next week. Ugh.
edited to add:
3 things.
1) Was looking over what I wrote on the Newton yesterday. Dude, i was not ok. But some of it's kind of amusing. tonight or tomorrow I'll post some of my more insane rantings. There's one kind of disturbing bit of flash fiction that reads like somebody else wrote it. Dude I was fucked-up yesterday.
2) Dave took out the garbage. Awesome.
3) Fiona is going to a trade show in Manhattan this weekend and she gets to be booth candy.
"I have to wear samples of next season's line," she said. "Well, samples are always size small, and I'm not. So the skirts? Fit me at waist and thus are really short." ... "Oh, I'm not allowed to speak." Me: "What?" Her: "I'm not allowed to talk at this trade show. Well. I can make conversation. But I'm not allowed to do any selling or talk about the products. I don't know enough yet. So yes, I am there to be booth candy." Me: "Sweet!"
I need to start making t-shirts again (I used to be heavy into silkscreening) and make her a shirt that says "booth candy" on it.
