#667: WITH ALL THE BIRD REFERENCES, YOU'D THINK THIS ENTRY HAD SOMETHING MORE TO DO WITH THEM
Oh seriously, I have no time for this today what with work and picking up packages and finding my marriage certificate and fantasizing about beer on a day that is above 10°C and having to go take photographs of stuff before the green starts coming out and feeding the Ladybird (extra stupid finch) and going to a meeting and having to pee every twenty minutes for some reason (and, no, I am not preggers you baby-happy freaks).
What the above sentence that looks like a paragraph means is that I have fifteen minutes to write an entry, and I decided that I was going to just stream one out without thinking too much and see what I had to say, which is, apparently, not very much. I think Spring stole my brain and replaced it with bluebirds of happiness. At least they are kind of in the same colour group, so I don't notice so much.
I am all about the spring fever today. I want to be outside hearing the birds twitter and shooting pictures of all the trees looking like dry sticks rather than languishing under these fluorescent lights. If I were a beggar... If my horse had three wishes... What is that saying?
I am supposed to go to this solstice party tonight, but I get all freaked out about going to people's houses. I get all worked up before I go, because when you go to someone's house, you can't just pop in and leave like you can in a public establishment. You have to stay and visit and act like you like it and be nice to everyone and bring something along, and sometimes I am very good at doing all of those things, but sometimes, like today sometimes, it feels like going to jail. I imagine myself sitting on a sofa or stuck in the kitchen jambed between other people and hoping nobody says anything directly to me that I will have to respond to. Usually when I do go, it's not like jail at all and I end up enjoying myself anyway, but right now I feel like I'm going to jail.
How was your day, Schmutzie? some random party person asks.
Why are you talking to me? Schmutzie replies, forgetting the strict division between thinking to herself and talking out loud.
I'll do myself a solid and go drink beer for two hours before I go.
I only typed that "I'll do myself a solid" line to be annoying. I hate that term. Whenever someone says something like Do me a solid..., I always think it sounds like they're asking someone to poop for them. Will you produce a poop especially for me? A poop for my very own?
Aaaaaaand we're done. Time's over and my coffee's cold. Also, Raymi's got me hankering for lots of steamy chicken, so I am off to hunt me up some good pre-cooked and seasoned carcass. Mmm-mmm.