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dragonlady7Spent yesterday doing laundry, writing a restaurant review, doing the dishes, and then lying in a stupor of crippling pain because my cramps were real bad. I did drag myself out of bed in time to roast a chicken for dinner, however, and when I went outside to empty the compost Tupperware into the heap, the crazy neighbor lady verbally abused me. "I don't listen when rude people talk," I told her, finished my business, and went inside while she continued to shriek about something or other. Had she begun the conversation with any other word besides "Missy" I might have spoken with her, but I meant what I said: People who don't bother with manners are usually not worth attempts at conversation. You don't address another person as "Missy", not if that other person is more than about ten years old.
Yesterday evening I painstakingly ironed Z's suit pants and his white shirt, and cleaned his brown shoes. Last night he shaved, and I trimmed his moustache, which was fun, as I have never trimmed a moustache before. I trimmed his beard a little, and he declared it to be a symmetrical beardagon-- it kind of ended up roughly hexagonal.
This morning he got up and got all dressed up in full-on corporate regalia. I tried to convey how sexy I find this-- he does look very good in an expensive suit-- but couldn't come up with the words. He wore his power tie: it's a red and white striped tie, but if you look closer, you realize it's a line of Campbell's soup cans, diagonally across the tie. It's cute.
If he gets this job we'll be bumped up more than one income-tax bracket. (Last year he actually qualified for the Earned Income Credit, which means his refund was larger than the taxes he actually paid: he was that poor in 2004.) I said it would make us emphatically middle-class. He shrugged: what does that mean?
Not much; as it is I haven't adjusted my spending habits to my income, so I have ridiculously frugal habits and a deceptively fat savings account. If he does the same, so much the better. Does it mean we're un-American if we earn money we don't spend?
I sort of want to take my savings and use them to renovate this house to be a superefficient, solar-powered haven, but even that would probably be crass consumerism.
It's sort of moot, of course: our finances aren't really intertwined. Sometimes I think it would be easier if they would. But then, sometimes, I don't want to deal with it.
I'm not expressing myself well today. This seemed very interesting in my head but now I'm writing and it doesn't seem so.
I am unaccountably distressed by the fallout of a fandom kerfuffle in which I was not really involved, but do not know how to communicate my feelings to those involved.
I am generally feeling sort of useless today. I hope Z is feeling smarter than me. His coworkers like his tie. They all know he's going for an interview today. Except I don't think the boss has noticed.
I have to pull myself together and finish the edits on that restaurant review.
I don't feel like working this week. It's not that I feel lazy, it's that I really want to space out and write for a while, and not while sitting on the cold floor down by the baggage claim checking the time every five minutes. Bah.
Yesterday evening I painstakingly ironed Z's suit pants and his white shirt, and cleaned his brown shoes. Last night he shaved, and I trimmed his moustache, which was fun, as I have never trimmed a moustache before. I trimmed his beard a little, and he declared it to be a symmetrical beardagon-- it kind of ended up roughly hexagonal.
This morning he got up and got all dressed up in full-on corporate regalia. I tried to convey how sexy I find this-- he does look very good in an expensive suit-- but couldn't come up with the words. He wore his power tie: it's a red and white striped tie, but if you look closer, you realize it's a line of Campbell's soup cans, diagonally across the tie. It's cute.
If he gets this job we'll be bumped up more than one income-tax bracket. (Last year he actually qualified for the Earned Income Credit, which means his refund was larger than the taxes he actually paid: he was that poor in 2004.) I said it would make us emphatically middle-class. He shrugged: what does that mean?
Not much; as it is I haven't adjusted my spending habits to my income, so I have ridiculously frugal habits and a deceptively fat savings account. If he does the same, so much the better. Does it mean we're un-American if we earn money we don't spend?
I sort of want to take my savings and use them to renovate this house to be a superefficient, solar-powered haven, but even that would probably be crass consumerism.
It's sort of moot, of course: our finances aren't really intertwined. Sometimes I think it would be easier if they would. But then, sometimes, I don't want to deal with it.
I'm not expressing myself well today. This seemed very interesting in my head but now I'm writing and it doesn't seem so.
I am unaccountably distressed by the fallout of a fandom kerfuffle in which I was not really involved, but do not know how to communicate my feelings to those involved.
I am generally feeling sort of useless today. I hope Z is feeling smarter than me. His coworkers like his tie. They all know he's going for an interview today. Except I don't think the boss has noticed.
I have to pull myself together and finish the edits on that restaurant review.
I don't feel like working this week. It's not that I feel lazy, it's that I really want to space out and write for a while, and not while sitting on the cold floor down by the baggage claim checking the time every five minutes. Bah.
