No, don't go blaming it on that wicked cocaine.
I seem to have overworked myself into a sort of amnesia. One day laps into the next. All things happen at once.
The gas company still doesn't believe me about the stove.
Fine. I hate the old gas stove, have always hated it. I'll get a new one.
To relax, I'll sit down and watch some DVDs. Okay - why does it say "Cannot play this disk" for every single flipping disk I put into it, from the cleaning disk to "Airheads", which I watched the other night. (Brendan Fraser. Long hair. Ripped jeans. Oh baby.) (Even Adam Sandler was hot in that movie. He was ripped. And now he's just a soft doughy ball of whitebread?)
The DVD player, she dead, mon.
Meet Steve. He works at a major electronics retailer in New Jersey. He is so glad he was working today because I came in and bought a new stove and a new DVD player.
What? Afford it? (Snort.) Of course I can't afford it. That's why Visa loves me.
Truly, the last couple of days are blurring together. I've put three coats of polyurethane on the study floor. I've been to visit GiGi. I went to IKEA. I came back from IKEA.
The house is complete chaos. I'm exhausted. My internet connection is wonky.
Of course it's a full moon. What else would you expect?
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