I am not the one doing any kind of penance. My writing abilities are seriously impaired by the vicodan, so I can totally understand why it seemed that way. Did I even fucking spell penance correctly. I don't give a shit either way I guess.
Chef owes me. He knows it. He truly is sorry. I can tell.
[aside]He was going to take Zoe to school yesterday so that she could sleep in, and I could get on to work. But when she woke up, she was crying and saying that she wanted to stay with him and not go to school. So the sucker that he is for that girl, he let her stay with him. By the end of the day he was like "she's making me lose my will to liveeeee." hahahaha. I was laughing so hard. "Chef, (yeah, she calls him Chef) pick my baby's booger. Chef, I want some yogurt. Chef, wake up. (sitting on his stomach and poking her finger in his forehead) Chef, tie my baby's shoes." I was like... um, Welcome to My World, Dude. I love that girl to the end and back, but man, sometimes she is just a handful. That was awfully brave (and stupid) of him to do.[aside over]
Anyway, as far as the penance I am going to give to him ... I know what I want from him. I want to see if he will do it without me telling him what I want. (does that make and fucking sense? These should be called the Vicodan Chronicles)
Yeah, I know that's kind of horrible, but I know he has it in him.
He knows it too.
I hope that you all one day will know it too.
I hope this is the last time I feel like typing shit about all of this.
I hope that kharma doesn't kick me right in the ass.
I hope that I can safely drive home on this fucking high dose of vicodan.
I hate drugs.
They aren't my friend.
Except when I'm writing.
And even then they aren't my friend sometimes.
I want a Goddamn margarita.
I have more physical therapy tomorrow.
I'm going to the circus in July for my birthday with my sister.
I am less than a month away from being 37. old. sort of.
I want to wear a tiara and send Candy a big bouquet of flowers.
I wish I had the money to send Candy a big bouquet of flowers (or a bouquet of earrings or leather whips or cat jeweled collars or some fake gold teef)
Ok, I'm hungry & dinner is waiting.
I would make a lousy junkie.
Just fucking TELL him what you want. He is a MAN not a fucking mind reader! Jeez you chicks are totally screwed up about that stuff.
"IF you don't know, Well I am certainly NOT going to tell you."
Jesus H. Christ on a Crutch. TELL HIM!
WTF you talkin bout, Debuwillis? You are going to the circus for yo bday? Hell you say! You are going to SA for yo bday!
Posted by: Deanna at June 25, 2004 10:51 PM