|
rwd
fwd
Ah yes, and now here we are, in alphabetic succession, at Tori Amos. This is when we are almost done with the dishes, this is after that nasty trash has been taken out, this is when we light the incense. The good incense, the kind from Inti that I liked so much, not that crap Virgen De Guadalupe incense left over from my father's collection. The shift from Tom Waits to Tori Amos is usually better served once we are observing the shift from day unto evening, from cleaning to the shower, to the clothes for whichever activities I find myself a part of. I know which activities those are. Those are the ones that I am doing. I really should have started cleaning earlier in the week. This is not to say that I didn't do anything during the week. I did. I went to the beach. HAHAH. But really, I've set some things up with Target and took an excruciatingly long test with a temp agency. This week I will do more in the way of deciding what I want and how to go about getting it. The only negative* would be the rescheduling the kitten's appointments due to me not being awake for them. Same problem, yes. But we are not defeated here just yet, oh yes. We just need a few days like Saturday, lemon-fresh and windows open despite the heat and humidity. I know the truth is in between the first and fourtieth drink, Tori. I know. Jingle bells to you, too.
Oh, and my nail polish is chipping. Those goddamn Russians and their red nail polish. Elise took me for my Congratulations For Not Having A Job pedicure yesterday, and the lady was, er.. very convincing, we'll say. So I let her paint my finger nails as well. Nail polish is chosen first by the colour but honestly relies heavily on the name of said colour. This, in all it's bright red glory, is I'm Not Really A Waitress. So help me god, Glory of the 80's just won't even play anymore. Mothra.
|