![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Good morning once more!
Mar. 2nd, 2009 10:30 amIt's Monday. I have to go to work this afternoon, and before that I am heading out to... *gasp* the gym! Yes, Phnee is working on getting herself into shape. Note that I did not say "back into shape." There is no "back," here, as I don't think I've ever been in what one could qualify as "good shape." Still, no time like the present, right? Right.
After that I'm heading to work, and thence homeward once more. Ain't my life thrilling? :)
I've been reading some novels, a bunch of YA stuff ("Inkheart," "The Tale of Despereaux"), and generally being quiet. Work is going to be interesting this week, but at least Piñata!Supervisor isn't going to be there, as I believe he's on vacation (again) for two weeks. Maybe it'll prevent me from beating him to death with a keyboard.
I'm off to have breakfast, do my dishes, and get my day started. The nice part about working evening shift is that I can sleep in a bit in the mornings. Today I got up at eight, puttered for a bit, and then went back to bed.
Had some pretty anxiety-filled dreams, sadly, most of which I can't remember. I remember that I was on a trip out of town, and that I was staying with a large family who played water polo (no, don't ask). The cats were with me for some reason, and on the day I was meant to come home I awoke to find that George had vomited all over the bed and all over me, which meant I would have tons of laundry to do (it was dream-vomit, which meant it really was everywhere, in giant puddles, but didn't actually look like cat vomit, so again, I entreat you not to ask, it was just weird). Then when I was out —avoiding the laundry, most likely— the place where I was staying suffered from some sort of attack. It was something like a bomb, or a suicide bomber, or something. No real casualties, but a lot of property damage, and I remember realizing that I was going to miss my flight home, which is when I awoke.
Water polo, cat vomit, and suicide bombs. Not too shabby, Subconscious. :P
After that I'm heading to work, and thence homeward once more. Ain't my life thrilling? :)
I've been reading some novels, a bunch of YA stuff ("Inkheart," "The Tale of Despereaux"), and generally being quiet. Work is going to be interesting this week, but at least Piñata!Supervisor isn't going to be there, as I believe he's on vacation (again) for two weeks. Maybe it'll prevent me from beating him to death with a keyboard.
I'm off to have breakfast, do my dishes, and get my day started. The nice part about working evening shift is that I can sleep in a bit in the mornings. Today I got up at eight, puttered for a bit, and then went back to bed.
Had some pretty anxiety-filled dreams, sadly, most of which I can't remember. I remember that I was on a trip out of town, and that I was staying with a large family who played water polo (no, don't ask). The cats were with me for some reason, and on the day I was meant to come home I awoke to find that George had vomited all over the bed and all over me, which meant I would have tons of laundry to do (it was dream-vomit, which meant it really was everywhere, in giant puddles, but didn't actually look like cat vomit, so again, I entreat you not to ask, it was just weird). Then when I was out —avoiding the laundry, most likely— the place where I was staying suffered from some sort of attack. It was something like a bomb, or a suicide bomber, or something. No real casualties, but a lot of property damage, and I remember realizing that I was going to miss my flight home, which is when I awoke.
Water polo, cat vomit, and suicide bombs. Not too shabby, Subconscious. :P
