Clearly, I'm frustrated. He can't take me out to go shoe shopping, so I have to do it online. And I'm trying to do it on the cheap. I had the boots picked out. In my size. For $11. And they weren't a second or third choice. They were my first choice. First, he insisted that Psycho Bitch left me a pair like them when she left. No, she didn't. She wore a pair like them and left me a pair of stripper boots. It took 15 minutes to convince him of that, and I really don't think I convinced him. I anticipate him rifling through my closet in the near future, looking for them.
I am waiting on people right now. Too many to list. That is the one problem with working manically like I do. I get ahead of people. I cover so many bases, and then my list is empty. Meanwhile, people all have their own things to deal with before they can get back to me, and I usually pose questions to them that they need to think on, so that takes its own time. I should do some physical arting tonight and give my email box time to fill up. And I'm right on the edge of something and I'm really curious as to whether fate is going to push me over, or if it's going to pull me back and give me a tree limb, again. There's a tug-of-war metaphor in there, reach in and get it, would you? I just woke up from a Seroquel sleep and don't have the focus, yet.
