Mm, this morning was MUCH better than yesterday morning. After rewarding My slave for the wonderful orgasm I had last night, I braced myself for the hectic office. And oh, is it hectic! And yet, I feel like I�m getting stuff done, making headway, you know? I don�t feel as overwhelmed as I thought I would upon walking in here. One thing at a time, I just keep reminding myself of that.
I had dinner with Dad last night, it�s so great to have him around, he�ll be here for a month! But I feel bad when I�m not there at night, as if I�m somehow leaving him alone, somehow abandoning him to suffer my cats in my absence. I�ll have to stay there more nights this month than I�m used to, which will probably be good for me in some ways. We�ll be moving upstairs soon, I will need to clean and pack and organize. Ooh, organize.
After dinner, I went over to M.s.�s and saw Woody Allen and Diane Keaton in Annie Hall. Good, funny, realistic. I can dig it. So, I just received my math book. That�s right, I�m taking a MATH class. This ain�t calculus, dearies, though I took that back in high school. Soon, I�ll be calculating in my head, seeing formulas and such in simple day-to-day activities. Just like in the movie, Pi. Alright, I�ll come clean � I�d be happy if I could learn enough to stop counting on my fingers.
I�m very excited about this weekend! It�s a big one. For the first time in two years, I will not be going to Coachella (wah!), but after seeing the lineup, I�m sure that I�m not missing much. Man, that first year I went was psychotic, the hotel resort, the musicians hanging at the bar, the drugs� sigh. Then, last year, a slightly different crowd, bonding with new folks, great music, a day in the sunshine, wonderful company, the drugs� good times, good times. But, alas, the festival is not why I am so excited for this weekend, no!
Friday night, I�m taking my father out, something I can�t write yet, because from time to time, I think he reads me, and I want to keep the surprise. Speaking of which, Dad, again, if you happen upon this, all this talk and poetry about sex and slaves, it�s fantasy fodder for writing. RIGHT. Your daughters are clean and good and hardly naughty at all. Well, three of them are. But that doesn�t mean the fourth is ME. We all remember the fruit-fly ratio, right? One out of four. Hee hee. So, special night out with Dad, and he�s going to shit his pants when he sees where I�m taking him. That�s a figure of speech, in case you thought my father had weak bowels or something.
Then Saturday, M.s.�s friend is coming in from Seattle, and the rest of the weekend through Monday will be spent having a blast in her honor. Oh, yeah. From artsy gatherings with people from different walks of the art world, to Quiz Night, to Earth Day concerts, and I�m sure so much more! But what the fuck am I doing writing about the weekend already? It�s only TUESDAY! Which is both a relief and a disappointment. Relief, because I have more time to finish this paperwork that�s due on Friday. Disappointment because� well, you know� all these great plans!
Enough, enough, I�m rambling. Back to my paperwork and the reality of today (which I will remind myself, is glorious).
-Barbarella
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