PARCHED
Oh, the industry that comes with working alone in an office! I had a
premonition that I would be going it alone today, so luckily I brought my
Hockey News. But I came in this morning, and Wayne said Jen was sick (I feel
bad -- I gave it to her), and now he's off to Court to be yelled at by Justice
Polowin. So I'm all yours!
I had the most bizarre dreams last night, many of them involving most of the
people I know. But one of them was most peculiar, in which I was constantly
thirsty, and no matter how much I drank, nothing helped. So I woke up this
morning not feeling actually dehydrated, but I was psychologically parched. I
went into the bathroom and drank a litre of water right off the bat. Then I
was late, so I came into work. I'm on my second bottle from the beer fridge
(if only it actually contained beer!) and still going strong. I haven't eaten
anything yet, but I have a tendency to slosh if I move too quickly. It
reminds me of being a kid and drinking too much water. Rather entertaining.
So . . . yeah.
Man, I have so much to accomplish in the next short hours of my spare time. I
have to see
Caitlin, wash my dogs, try out my Hallowe'en costume, do three
homeworks, buy chocolate chips, make cookie dough, and bake cookies. *phew!*
I wish there was some way I could do some of it now, while I'm idling away at
the office. I contemplated bringing in nail polish this morning, but I
thought that was overdoing it a bit. So here I am . . . and there you are.
*sigh* I have a Will that I wrote that I need to finish. A few letters to
write, some dictations . . . I hope I don't have to close that real estate
deal . . .
Well, you'll prolly hear from me again before the day is out. I intend to
purchase some of the neon joy common folk call NERDS. So I'll be happy. More
bulletins as events warrant.
*sloshes*
2:16 PM
I am a big ball (a very large ball, indeed) of satiated contentment. I had a
lovely spaghetti lunch at the Newport. I read my Hockey News. I bought my
neon joy. I even found the cutest thing for Cait for Christmas. It reminds
me of a William Carlos Williams poem she wrote in my book once when we were
younger. It's called "The Red Wheelbarrow."
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
They didn't have any more of the thing that I wanted to get her, so I ordered
it. I'm excited. And that is all I will tell you. The mystery will KILL you.
Posted by Ally at October 28, 2004 09:22 AM