Anti-memorial day

I woke this morning with the li'l sparkly thingies still in their correct spots. My make-up had barely moved. I was the morning-after rock-star today! HA! HA!

I kind of recall having fallen into bed, thought about reading and then it was morning and dreams of angels dressed as raver girls, liquid dancing but they were really flying.

I just wanted a feather, or a kiss.

And then it's grar-rock on 92.3, because it annoys me enough to get my arse out of bed.

I recall sights, sounds...illegitimate kisses, furrowed brows, angst-ridden Cables, stompy boots that I drool-drool-drool to own, tight red corsetry on lovely goth girls, burly men not pretty enough to hold my attention, LOTS of fog in my still-sore eyes, not enough of alcohol to be loud and surly on my own. I needed a cohort, someone to point and giggle with. But instead a gave some man advice on how to deal with his girlfriend (I think?) being late for everything by hours. I have so much room to give advice here too, lemme tell you. (Eastern Dawndom Time PREVAILS!)

I must admit, i am rather disgruntled about some things this afternoon. I found someone else with my default user-pic, only antiqued. That urks me.

I also, and mostly, do not want to work. I want to eat ribs, get corn on the cob stuck in my teeth, drink gawd-awful beer and be a dork this afternoon. Instead, I am off to the job, and must go soon lest I get pulled over like last year in Middlefuck-heights for going five MPH over the speedlimit. Ok, I was going more like 15, but hey! I didn't want to be late. I was though...VERY late.

And the Q at work expects me to be at a meeting at 8AM tomorrow, after working till 11pm? WTF ever.

Hope everyone is recovering from whatever ails them this day. Dare I say that my dreams were just my fears caving in on my psyche? It would so seem...

I should not ask so many questions

The last line of my last post read:

Dare I say that my dreams were just my fears caving in on my psyche? It would seem...

I am so damn FOOLISH!
Such a fool! To think twice about what Ia m told in my dreams!

I was actually having a good day, had a mind to sit with the residents and watch the sunset over coffee. I was about to do so, when I got a call from wraptboy.

Bats has died.

Dumb ass dog! He could never fucking figure out that cars were bad, dangerous...we tried to teach him...hell, he couldn't figure anything out. Not potty, not sit, not cars...Jesus.

And I am still stuck here, at work, helpless, sad, tearfully leaking everywhere.

Bless Cheryl's heart. She's the other staff on tonight. She saw me crying, asked what was wrong, and has since been in-charge for me while I try to pass meds and keep moving.

Fucking dog. God!

(((HUGZ!))) wraptboy...I hope you are OK. It's not your fault...he just got out, and was an ass.

stygmameshe...please do not say anything to Veil about this yet. I want to tell him, and shall do so tonight when I get home. He's gonna be so sad.

Hell, I am sad.
This is a sad, sad day...Memorial day...what is that? Irony?

Sad sad sad
Goodnight, Bats.

We loved you, lots.