Gah. What a worthless day. Its not worthy of writing about, but I will do so anyway. I am stubborn like that.

I am allergic to the b/f's bed. At least that's my theory. Oh yes, I was happy when he finally put the damned thing together (tired of sleeping on the floor--you betcha), and at first I liked Mr Waterbed. But Mr Waterbed, he is an old Mr Waterbed. The kind that is wave-inducing. The kind that you sink into and that cannot move without heaving yourself about. I end up in odd positions and I always have a headache the next day. So I had a frickin headache all damned day. And what do I have to look forward to? I'm probably going to have to sleep there again tonight because his car is yet again in the shop and I have to pick him up. I'm not driving all the way to that end of town and then driving back to where I started from; no.

On the plus side, he has chocolate cake and Cool-Whip. I got that going for me. Well yeh, OK, and sex. There's another good thing.

Right! That's it. Not a damned thing to report. No one wishes to hire me and fuck them, that's what I say.

Yes, that's all I have to say.

Hrmph.

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