Big Black Horse and a Cherry Tree
Work is going fairly well. There are people there I like (and frankly, one person in particular I really dig) and people I don't like so much, but I'm learning about people. I'm learning that you don't talk about people, that you don't bother complaining because, much as you want to change things, you just can't, sometimes, and complaining keeps you angry when you should just let things go and move on.
I hear the song, from which I took my title, at least four times a day at work. I also hear Sublime, Damien Rice, Pearl Jam, and all sorts of other bands. It's pretty cool, except for all the damn KT Tunstall. Alright, fine... I'm listening to it right now, too. I can't help it.
Wayne and I have an apartment in Farmington, and I have a countdown on my calendars at work (both of them!) in bright pink hilighter. We're at fifteen days. Fifteen days to move away from Wayne's dad and the cat-killer. We're living over the garage of the guy who owns the bar I drink at for an eve-rollingly low price. I'm doing happy dances in my cubicle every morning as I fill in the calendars, and I've taken to announcing to the department, "Sixteen days, guys! Sixteen days!" as if it's the day of Virgin Sacrifice. I'm excited for many reasons, main ones including: moving! out! of Anna's! house! and our new bedroom has a hookup for a wet bar. Hells yes. We're on ten acres, we have a yard, we can have what we want for pets and we have almost as much storage space as we have living space. It's good.
Speaking of Wayne, he pretty much broke up with me two weeks ago. Yeah, based on the above, you can surmise that we're ok, we're still together. He decided he didn't have time to be a good boyfriend, and that I deserved better. He decided that I needed to be with someone better, but right now, there isn't anyone else I'd rather be with. Luckily (for him, Ha!) he decided to work on it before making any drastic decisions. I'm not writing anymore, cause I don't want to get angry again, but things are better now.
I'm loving Billy Joel tonight. Sick, ain't it?
I hear the song, from which I took my title, at least four times a day at work. I also hear Sublime, Damien Rice, Pearl Jam, and all sorts of other bands. It's pretty cool, except for all the damn KT Tunstall. Alright, fine... I'm listening to it right now, too. I can't help it.
Wayne and I have an apartment in Farmington, and I have a countdown on my calendars at work (both of them!) in bright pink hilighter. We're at fifteen days. Fifteen days to move away from Wayne's dad and the cat-killer. We're living over the garage of the guy who owns the bar I drink at for an eve-rollingly low price. I'm doing happy dances in my cubicle every morning as I fill in the calendars, and I've taken to announcing to the department, "Sixteen days, guys! Sixteen days!" as if it's the day of Virgin Sacrifice. I'm excited for many reasons, main ones including: moving! out! of Anna's! house! and our new bedroom has a hookup for a wet bar. Hells yes. We're on ten acres, we have a yard, we can have what we want for pets and we have almost as much storage space as we have living space. It's good.
Speaking of Wayne, he pretty much broke up with me two weeks ago. Yeah, based on the above, you can surmise that we're ok, we're still together. He decided he didn't have time to be a good boyfriend, and that I deserved better. He decided that I needed to be with someone better, but right now, there isn't anyone else I'd rather be with. Luckily (for him, Ha!) he decided to work on it before making any drastic decisions. I'm not writing anymore, cause I don't want to get angry again, but things are better now.
I'm loving Billy Joel tonight. Sick, ain't it?
posted by Popcorn Charlie at 4:49 PM
1 Comments:
yes.
all i can hear is seth singing that... ::shivers::
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