|I heard somebody say, "I think she's dyin'..."
||[Mar. 29th, 2006|02:13 pm]
d M u n
|||||Fish On. Primus.||]|
"Maybe she's already dead, maybe she's gone to Mars.
Maybe we could even write her epitaph in the stars."
-- The Vampires Of New York, Marcy Playground.
Marriage is SWEET, I feel older...and more prioritized. Sure, I'm often late for work, but since I'm an imperfect human being like anybody else, I'm entitled to blame it on my frequently and spontaneously dying phone, in which I'm too frugal to buy a cheap alarm clock in replacement of.
Then again, I've been counseled on being 2 minutes late today, and the strong, respectable supervisor has supplied me with $5.65, so...off to buy that cheap alarm clock.
...no, I am not "sane", I just drink alot of Italian coffee. It's a gift, really...when this beautiful girl prepares it for you...puts a smile on the ol' face whenever work doesn't piss you off, disregarding politics, of course.
Time to go to the gym again, 'spose I'll go after work.