It’s Friday, and I am sick to death of me! Am I sick of myself or is myself sick of me? I honestly don’t know what I would do with out this blog. It really has been a life saver. I’ve gotten wonderful feedback about it but it really wouldn’t matter if you told me it was the worst thing you’ve ever read. I know now why I love conversation so much. I don’t have to speak to myself. The longer you spend alone the more you find yourself talking in your head to yourself. These little mini conversations have been the catalyst for many of my blogs but since I am only spending week days with myself, my material is drying up. I am sick of my own company. I am only so interesting…to myself.
Bianca hasn’t been a lot of help either. She is having surgery on Monday to remove a growth from her paw. She has to wear this dreary, martini-glass collar to keep her from licking and it has really put a damper on things. She’s not nearly as entertaining. So here we are two dreary spirits on a dreary day. Telva walks in the door from work and I’m on her like a tick on a deer. “What happened at work today”? “What did you eat for lunch”? “What did so-and-so say about what’s it”? “What was the commute like”? It’s really pathetic but necessary. Then I look forward to hearing all of it again when Bruce gets home. Not good.
I never watch t.v. but I watched Perry Mason today and then found myself on the edge of my seat to see if GoodWill Hunting on the Nate Berkus show stayed within his $300 budget for redoing someones family room. Did you know that Jerry Springer is still on, (ewwwww) and Anderson Cooper has his own talk show now?! I never had trouble coming up with things to do in my own home, but being in someone else’s is different. It’s time for me to unpack my hobbies. Reading is a big part of my life but I don’t want to over use the privilege. I need to keep time for worrying and re-checking work sites. Then I feel entitled to relax…maybe.
It’s supposed to be gorgeous this weekend so I know I can work in the yard and be outside. There is the beach to look forward to on Sunday. I may cry.