Today one of my friends found out about this blog, and wanted to see it. So I thought I’d write a little something about her, you know, to test if she’s really reading. I never use people’s names, just in case they don’t want themselves out there on the internets all exposed and whatnot, so let’s just call her Ray Ray (named in honor of this Friend’s episode because it makes me laugh – God bless Phoebe and Regina Phalange – plus, you know, Winona Ryder).

A while back I was telling Ray Ray all about my Mental Health Issues and my Adventures With Crazy Pills, you know, because I like to share inappropriate personal information with people. So, she brought me this:

it’s a piggy bank to save up for Valium – “so I can relax… forever” – ha! Hilarious! A suicide bank! Fabulous gift for any of the nutters on your list. Anyway – this post is for her.

On the way home from work tonight The Husband and I were mulling over dinner options. I mentioned that I had a hankering for breakfast – it’s my favorite meal to have out, because who wants to cook all that stuff at home? That bacon smell? It never goes away.  So I said “hey, we could go to Village Inn”. Then I looked at the clock. It was 4:15. Because of my new schedule I now get off work at 3:30.  That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, we ate dinner at 4:15 on a Friday evening at The Village Inn – just us, a couple of haggard waitresses and a charming 80 year old woman reading a newspaper.  Okay, that was mean about the waitresses. They’re very nice, and they bring you a whole carafe of coffee. Fanfuckingtastic!

That’s all for today. I’m going to go dig through some old emails and then get on with my weekend.

Muah!

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