Aimee

Ugh. I'm sore, I'm tired and God, my head is killing me but that's what I get for growing some twisted Wonder Woman complex at 12:30 in the morning which was followed by a bunch of sitting around acting like I didn't have to get up for work this morning instead of doing the sensible thing and taking my ass to bed. Well, I did have to get up for work this morning and now I'm paying for my fruitless attempt at being a superhero(ine). Oh well, maybe after a hundred (or so) cups of coffee I'll feel better. We'll see.

So, what the heck was I doing at 12:30 in the morning? You ask.

Why I was helping my dad move the stackable washer/dryer unit back into the hall closet upstairs, of course. And let me tell ya, that sucker is heavy, really heavy (or I'm just weak, whichever). But after a lot of cursing and a couple smashed fingers we managed to get the damn thing back in the hall closet. The dryer is still toast (mental note to self to call the landlord right after I kick Christie's ass for having Robin pull the bloddy thing out of the closet in the first place) but the washer is fixed and that'll have to do for the moment.

And while I have Christie on the brain, I should probably clarifty a couple things about our relationship because it's occured to me that with all the bitching I do about the lovely women, people might get the idea that I don't love her, that we're not close and that's not so, not at all. I do, immensely and we are, absolutely. Thing is, we're different, her and I, like night and day really, and that makes for a whole lot of head-butting over just about everything. But it's no big thing cause we always make nice (that is, after the claws retract, of course).

Matter of fact, the lovely woman in question just called to tell me that the postman left something for me on our doorstep. Isn't that lovely? I thought so. What wasn't lovely was the arguement over who should get to open the box. It's mine. Mine, mine, mine. So, I get to open it, dammit. She was most unhappy about that unarguable fact, and attempted to change bargaining tactics, but after I threatened to cause bodily harm if she so much as put her hands on the box again, she relented with no more than a "bitch" muttered (lovingly, I might add) under her breath. See how reasonable we can be with each other.

And that's all for now, folks, but it's early yet so who knows what the day will bring.