Ginger Ale
I'm writing this in the hopes that everything that I'm keeping on the inside that is eating me alive will come out.
The taste of flat ginger ale has left a stale taste in my mouth. That is how I feel right now. I feel like ginger ale once all the carbonation has left it. The bounce in my step has died. I am left to walk without it.
Every day keeps draining me until there is nothing left. I am not given time to rebuild my energy before the next day comes. I dearly wish Adam could see that. He does not seem to realize that even though the tasks he asks of me are small, I am left with so little that they take more out of me than they should.
We have gotten more information on the person who hit us. It is a man from Mexico that the local police have had several "dealings" with. He has no state or national ID issued to him, only his Mexican ID. Since he didn't bother to get a legal ID here, Adam is worried that he doesn't have car insurance either. I hate to say that I share his concern. Adam fixed his brake lights this afternoon, so at least that's one less thing he'll need to get fixed.
I work tomorrow through Saturday night. I can't say I am looking forward to working every night, but I guess it's better than working open to close all three days. Which reminds me. I have laundry I need to finish.
The apartment has been on a roller coaster of cleaning. It gets marginally cleaner, but gets dirty again in almost no time. Somehow, in less time than it took me to clean it to the point it was at, it has now gotten even dirtier than before. I would shake my fist at this leap frog tactic that my apartment has taken in trying to stay dirty, but I know that it would do no good.
Tokyo tried to run away tonight, but I laughed when she got to the edge of the patio only to find that it was pouring down rain. She stopped, looked out across the grass, turned tail, and ran back inside.
However, on a lighter note, Mike and I are having a great conversation about a hypothetical squrriel with a sniper rifle versus a random terrorist with a rocket launcher. The squrriel is winning.
Music: Jimmy Eat World - Takes My Pain Away
Mood: Amused
The taste of flat ginger ale has left a stale taste in my mouth. That is how I feel right now. I feel like ginger ale once all the carbonation has left it. The bounce in my step has died. I am left to walk without it.
Every day keeps draining me until there is nothing left. I am not given time to rebuild my energy before the next day comes. I dearly wish Adam could see that. He does not seem to realize that even though the tasks he asks of me are small, I am left with so little that they take more out of me than they should.
We have gotten more information on the person who hit us. It is a man from Mexico that the local police have had several "dealings" with. He has no state or national ID issued to him, only his Mexican ID. Since he didn't bother to get a legal ID here, Adam is worried that he doesn't have car insurance either. I hate to say that I share his concern. Adam fixed his brake lights this afternoon, so at least that's one less thing he'll need to get fixed.
I work tomorrow through Saturday night. I can't say I am looking forward to working every night, but I guess it's better than working open to close all three days. Which reminds me. I have laundry I need to finish.
The apartment has been on a roller coaster of cleaning. It gets marginally cleaner, but gets dirty again in almost no time. Somehow, in less time than it took me to clean it to the point it was at, it has now gotten even dirtier than before. I would shake my fist at this leap frog tactic that my apartment has taken in trying to stay dirty, but I know that it would do no good.
Tokyo tried to run away tonight, but I laughed when she got to the edge of the patio only to find that it was pouring down rain. She stopped, looked out across the grass, turned tail, and ran back inside.
However, on a lighter note, Mike and I are having a great conversation about a hypothetical squrriel with a sniper rifle versus a random terrorist with a rocket launcher. The squrriel is winning.
Music: Jimmy Eat World - Takes My Pain Away
Mood: Amused
posted by Meredith @ 1:02 PM
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