Tom has about two weeks of summer left. The floor is not close to being done. I am trying to be patient.
When he goes back to teaching, I feel a little less stressed about my job and the house (even though we are now officially upside down in our mortgage instead of just theoretically) because I’m also less jealous because he’s not home all day while I’m underemployed and bitter.
But if he’s not at home, who will sign for our packages? I can get them at work, but everyone is so nosy about what I get. I am tempted to order sex toys from Good Vibrations or Babeland and have them delivered to the office just for the shock value.
Needless to say, I am on that Flight Attendant’s side in this recent carry-on luggage/dramatic beer + inflatable slide fracas. Sometimes, you just can’t take anymore shit and somebody hits you in the face with something they shouldn’t even be touching, and you need a drink and to ride on a slide.
Fuck yeah! I love that flight attendant.