Friday, November 05, 2004

If Blogger Eats This....

I don't care. 7:05 p.m. Telephone rings. Inanna growls. Stupid people call me when Nate leaves... grrrrrr... It was some dude from American Bank or something. Heavily accented... he asked twice if I was Inanna and I told him no, and that I had already told him once that I was Inanna's (obviously redneck) sister and did he want to leave a message. He said no, but did I know when he could call back to reach her... uhh me. Uh, well, can't you just leave a message and I'll have her call you. Then I figure he was getting no where, rattled off a number and said goodnight. I'll remember that. 7:00 p.m. (yes, we're going backwards) Hagar bangs on the door even though I have the lights out, except in the computer room. Common sense would tell me to leave me alone. You guessed it, no common sense. Wants to use the phone. Ugh. He needs to find his wife. Why, she not come home last night, sorry not my day to watch her. 12:45 p.m. Receive e-mail from Kevyn informing me my visit to his office to pick him up for lunch "rocked the building down to the foundation." I e-mail back that "my work here is done. Pass a martini." Reality - Its a dry sullen victory and I could not give a shit less. 11:45 a.m. Sitting with Kevyn at local watering hole/luncheon when he tells me that he and his wife have broken their 18 month sexual fast. Said the Red Sox winning was better. So, I guess you telling her three weeks ago to find other living arrangements is kinda out. So is Inanna. I didn't realize what hope I had until he told me that and suddenly having bought hose, curling my hair, putting on make-up and high heels really didn't mean as much. Luckily, I looked killer. His fucking loss. Inanna waits. for. no. one. Gee and I meant to do a post on uber-orgasmia and look what you got.
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