Midweek

So it's back to the grind with a half-fucked, half-awake brain at the by-now-already-very-messy desk.

YY: How come you have three calendars on your desk?
Me: Nah, I'm gonna keep this one 'cos it's most decent, this one's crap so I'm gonna chuck it. And this one... this one's just my man looking at me as I work everyday. I need that.

I think someone's gonna miss Fatmama very soon.


I haven't been feeling quite in the... right mood.

Maybe it's the fucked-up body clock, which left me with almost zilch rest before I decided I should just get my ass to work in the morning.

Maybe it's the restless fucked-up body, dying to rid of the lethargy after missing last Saturday... and then another one to come this week.

I thought I would perk myself up tomorrow at work with a decent outfit, nice coat and heels and all. Just to get the mood up and going.

And then...

"You in GZ?"
"Yup, wassup?"
"Thought you might be in town."
"Back tomorrow for ball game though, wanna join?"

!!!!!

Screw the pretty skirt and shoes.



Now Mama's really, really happy.