Pulling into the station

May 20, 2005

I'm having strange dreams lately. I've had the same one now three nights in a row. Maybe that means I'm being all psychic again and it's going to come true. Can we be so lucky?

I was talking to my friend M this afternoon and I asked her how she managed to get her fiancee so well trained. She said that she just picked a good guy. To this I said, "I just want a guy that doesn't have an inflated ego. I just want him to walk though the door without hitting his head." She laughed and said that I have to look for someone that isn't in it for the sex and partying. Yeah. Don't see that happening.

The Ex and the Boss went to the warehouse in the Boss' Porsche (and I spelled that wrong - too lazy to look it up). They're putting the hard-top in the warehouse for the summer. Lucky bastard, that ex o'mine. I have yet to take a spin in the car. Not fair, either, come to think of it. And wait... I can lift the nose of a Corvette and move it, but I can't move the top of the Porsche? AUGH. I'm not a weakling here, folks. I might be a fat chick, but I can do my fair share of heavy lifting. ((Okay, the Vettes I'm talking about are made of this fiberglass stuff, so the parts are sooooo light. You're likely to hurt yourself just because you're expecting a heavy part and it's not. Ever go to lift a big box, prep yourself for something super heavy only to over-exert yourself and fall over? Or is that just me?))

I'm going to go pout in the corner now and throw things.

Or turn up the radio because no one is here... That works, too.

(Have a good weekend, everyone! If anyone wants to play games this weekend, swing by my mom's. M & I decided to get together for a game night tomorrow. I think I'm going to attempt a round of drunken Trivial Pursuit...)

I ain't no wuss stopped here at 2:54 p.m.

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