Almost done...
Got the last load of laundry in, finally.
I found another one, after I got what I thought was that last one done before.
(Scariest part is... I know what I mean.) Went to the store.
Got cigarettes and no, nobody said anything.
Came home, made dinner.
Oh, and guess what we had... Tacos. Not porkchops.
No.
Of course not. Tacos.
*lol* Ah well, like one of my other heros says, "Life is what happens when you're busy makin' other plans..." Know what?
Doug, from "King of Queens" is a cute little dipshit. Anyway...
Where was I? hmmm.... Shit.
I can't think of what else I was thinking.
I keep watching King of Queens instead.... Now I remember... I got my shower and washed my hair. Only thing left is "get a job". That's what tomorrow is for, correct? I hope so, 'cause I'm having a hard enough time staying awake long enough to get the last load into the dryer (and, for the record, the very next person who spells "flier" wrong anywhere on the Internet, I'mina hunt them down and beat them with my handy-dandy Webster's dictionary, I swear to fuck...). I wanna do that (get the last load drying, not kill some illiterate asshat with a thick book, tho that does have a macabre attraction all it's own *weg*), because the last load is Eric's favorite pair of coveralls.
They're those tan, thick ones... I forget the damned brand name. They also make coats, they're really heavy, waterproof, too, I think.
Guys love 'em.
Damn.
C'mon brain... don't make me hafta walk out to the mudroom and read a label, now...
Da fuck are they called? *walks over and gets a cigarette, not three feet away and * CARHART!!!!!
That's the name.
Thank you God.
And brain. Now, what about Carharts? Oh yeah.
The Carhart coveralls need to be ready for morning.
Ready= Dry. When they're dry, the house will be the "donest" it's been so far.
("Donest"= Most done, btw... sorry. *giggle*) And, my back is sooo stiff.
I've been feeling what wants to be a spasm under my right shoulder blade and only by the Grace of God has it not gone there and my left lower back feels like I got clocked a good one with my Pusser Club. I must say, I'd make a lovely sight, hobblin' on in and asking for a waitress job pretty much anywhere right about now. It's times like this that I'm at my closest to believing that I really am too old for this shit, I just ain't sure which shit it is I'm too old for. This time, however, I'm kinda leaning toward the "sleep on the living room floor, then clean the whole house in less than a day"-shit.
That just may have sump'tin to do with it, ya think? Alright...
Upstairs to see if that load is dry yet, so I can put the Carhart in.
While Carhart dries, see about Christmas lights in the stairway... maybe.
(Also maybe fall down stairs, or even possibly UP the stairs, if I try any kind of "balancing while looking up" kinda shit right now. Too tired to even write right, let alone hang lights with pushpins over my head on steps. With cats "helping", like Damien on the trike on The Omen....) Peace, y'all.
Comments
1
Carhartt's.
Two 'T's.
Best jeans and workclothes made. A staple out here on ranches and in the oilpatch. The deck carpenters at the theatre all wear the overalls too - like a damn uniform.
Good luck on the job front darlin'. Kick some ass. (but try not to fall on yours doing it.)
P.
Two 'T's.
Best jeans and workclothes made. A staple out here on ranches and in the oilpatch. The deck carpenters at the theatre all wear the overalls too - like a damn uniform.
Good luck on the job front darlin'. Kick some ass. (but try not to fall on yours doing it.)
P.
Posted by: Light & Dark at October 25, 2005 01:47 AM (+Ds2b)
2
How funny is it that I'm wearing my husband's Carhartt t-shirt while reading this? He's totally got the whole get-up, too. Overalls, jacket w/removeable hood, etc. Lives for the days it's actually cold enough to wear them.
Posted by: Belinda at November 04, 2005 04:23 PM (M7kiy)
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