"So, how are you?"
If I hear that one more time, I swear I'll......I'll...I'll do something bad, evil and painful. I just haven't figured out what yet.
I'm fine, I guess, except for everyone AND my mother pussyfooting around me like I have leprosy. Maybe I do. Maybe I'd have a better chance of being treated normally if an arm just decided to fall off. Who knows? Not me.
"She's gonna blow! Everyone stay calm and back away slowly from the Kir. Don't make any sudden moves, and you won't get hurt."
Please. I think the storm has calmed and the worst case scenario would be that I move again. Take up a few offers. I do partly own the farmhouse in Missouri, I could go there if I felt the need. But I kinda just got here.
Yes, I am a serial re-locater. So what? I'm used to moving every nine months at least, I get itchy after the first two. But there's paperwork to be filed and goals to be set. What better place do I have in a place that practically guarantees I'll get things only half done. Ah well, such is luck.
I came, I saw, I failed. Now shut up, quit reminding me, and pass me a beer.
New Mexico......my sister, Santa Fe, and living in a yurt....sounds tempting but....
Long Island.......not for all of the money in the world, I don't care ow fucking cute he is.....we had our live-in time, I think it's done now.
Florida......NEVER AGAIN!
Nawlins......probably as tempting as Phoenix. Feasible, but what exactly will be accomplished but more drunkeness and more miles.
Phoenix......there'll be plenty of time for that later.
I think I'm just ansty and disillusioned. That's different from any other time, how?
I think a little booty will make me feel all better. I'm sure even my father would prescribe that.
On that note, g'nite.