OK then. It has been a crappy week on Planet Dirtbunny. It started with weekend in which I was going to go into the office to do some catchin' up and I didn't. (Clarabelle: Fail. Again.) And then there was the Juve game. They were a-flyin' high after spanking Fulham 3-1 in the Europa League during the week, and all they had over the weekend was Siena at home. Siena is currently at the bottom of the table, so odds were good. It started out fine. ADP got a brace inside 8 minutes, and his tribuna fan club celebrated with new t-shirts that said 300 on the front and 301 on the back, cos they were ADP's 300th and 301st goals. Then Candreva, who is starting to grow on me ever so slightly, got a goal in minute 10 or 11 with a scorcher from distance. And after that, Juve gave up a three-goal lead and ended up with a draw, and one point. Inter lost (which never happens and must be exploited when it does). Milan won, but they are lookin' mighty shaky. Roma got a draw. Palermo lost. Napoli lost (thanks to la Viola). Juve could have made some progress up the table and gotten closer to securing a Champions League spot, but they failed to capitalize. At home. Against the worst team in the league. After going up 3-nil.
Yeah. So that was the weekend. On Monday I had my annual optometry appointment and I got my eyes dilated like I do every damn year, and that put me seriously out of sorts. On Tuesday, my enthusiastic new boss, who can never replace my beloved Bossboy who retired last month and left me all alone, decided to give the team and me some tips to improve our writing. That put my underpants in a bunch because nobody tells Dirtbunny her writing needs improvement. Ever. Dirtbunny's professional writing is fine exactly the way it is. She has been known and admired for it for 25 years. People come to Dirtbunny to learn how to improve. See? I'm getting pissed off all over again. So that shot Tuesday.
So Wednesday. The Man did something inconsiderate, something we have had arguments about several times, and something he promised he would not do again. I decided to "let it go" which means I kept my mouth shut but stewed about it all day until I was convinced it was proof that I had never been and never would be loved. Plus I had a headache. And there was nothing for dinner because The Man failed to go to the grocery store last weekend and there was no food. (It's his job because he can stick to a list and I can't). So he got Mexican take-out, but it was one of those arbitrary meat-is-gross days so I had tortilla chips for dinner.
Thursday, I woke up sick from the tortilla chips and still nursing that headache, so I stayed home. I ended up in bed until about 11 am and there was still no food so I had popcorn for brunch. And I was PMS-y and hormonal, and I was expecting The Man to come home early but he didn't so I started watching the Juve-Fulham Eurpoa League second leg without him. It ended badly. Don't ask.
*sigh*
Because The Man was four hours late coming home and because he took the car, I was unable to pick up a nice piece of fish for dinner, so we ended up with sucky Chinese food.
And today I worked at home. I felt better, but then my boss called me to ask a question and I got all paranoid because I thought maybe she was checking up on me. And I started thinking ahead to the weekend and I realized that I will not be able to follow through on my plan to go into the office tomorrow and do a little catching up because they are running the National Marathon here in Our Nation's Capital and I won't be able to get anywhere near the office because of street closures. And I thought about Juve-Samp this weekend (uh oh) and I think the Reds are playing somebody important this weekend and that can't be good and the weatehr is going to be beautifully sunny and about 22 degrees and I can spend most of my time on the deck until I get a sunburn and that has got to be good for the Vitamin D problem and there still isn't any food in the house and then someone said something about Rose's Lime Juice and blahblahblah........
The upshot is, time to go to Balducci's to get something for dinner, something to dull the pain of the zebra-fail, and something for lunch tomorrow. And some strawberries because I have a hankerin'. And especially limes for the zebra-fail libations. So the work day is over and off I go.
I had a short list. Seriously. There were about six things on it.
I came home with six bags of groceries (this is why Mr. D does the shopping). I forgot the limes, though. I had to go back for limes. Sheesh.
And now I am on the deck, trying to read the screen of my laptop in the sunshine, monitoring the beagles who are both sunbathing, and drinking a G&T and I have a little plastic spear with a lime wedge and a maraschino cherry on it and I know that maraschino cherries don't go with G&T but I really don't give a flying fuck so there. The dogs have been waiting for this all day and so have I, pile of dirty laundry, unbalanced checkbook, and unreturned phone calls be damned.
And now The Man is home. Let the weekend commence.
3 comments:
Enough limes there to drown the starting XI of a football team in gin and tonics, or to help William Powell in one of those Thin Man movies pass an afternoon (morning?) alone. My apologies for the cracks in the system this week!
The Man
Obviously the writing instruction could not be meant for you because you are wonderful.
Thanks, but I wish. There appears to be some confusion about whether my use of the word "had" is a superfluous air-filler used by the illiterate to sound intelligent (they think) or an indispesible verb form that is part of the very useful past perfect tense.
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