yourSo as you can doubtlessly tell, work is still my whole life. Especially now that I'm working full time. There's no escape.
I'm thinking of maybe moving to Sydney within the next month or two with the money I get from my tax return. Maybe. Either way, I'm thinking I'm gonna quit my job and take a week or two off. Y'know, to sit around and paint and watch Nip/Tuck. And other stuff.
Uhm... what else. Still no love life to speak of. I've been screwed around, and I've done some screwing around - in more than one sense of the word. Because I'm just a big ol' slut that way.
Georgia is a big kitty now. Ferrets are pointy. Housemates are weird and funny and occassionally annoying.
Uhm.
That's all for now.
She pointed up.
"Bird!" she cried.
"No, Gwen. Not a bird."
It was a plastic bag fluttering overhead, turning and rustling with each push of the wind.
"BIRD!" she insisted, as only a child can.
"Not a bird."
"...bird?"
"Bag, Gwen. Bag." He reached out to her. Her tiny fingers reached up to wrap around two of his. Her red curls, unbrushed and unkepmt, bobbed softly as she walked.
"...bag!" She pointed again.
"That's right."
The sky began to darken. Hand in hand, they started home.
I haven't updated in ages and feel like I should be typing out something deep and meaningful, but I'm drawing blank after blank.
I'm sad and angry and tired and frustrated and I want it all to go away. Just feeling very... blah. I want a day off, damnit. Work is consuming me, as if it's my fault the entire Canberra region of Darrell Lea is understaffed. Mind you, I doubt I'm as stressed as my managers. At least they get a little sympathy, I'm just a lowly casual.
I have this horrible feeling that I've broken the heart of a perfectly nice girl, too...
It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye.
So I had a date with a girl I met the other night. And now I'm sitting here in mortal fear that I bored her to death and she'll never want to speak to me again... oh god ohgod ohgodohgodohgod.
*fretfretfretfret*
Seriously. She says, "Well, I should go home... I have some washing to do..." So y'know, either her washing was more interesting than me... or, uhm... maybe she really had some washing to do.
I don't know. My plan of attack goes like this: message her tomorrow, invite her to a movie, offer to pay. If she says no or makes up some half-asked excuse, then I'll stop annoying her. The end.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod.
Georgia is doing well. 
She's sitting in my lap while I sit on the beanbag and type. She's such a sweetie... I've never owned a cat who would come and volintarily sit on me. Or anyone, for that matter. Delaney, who I lived with for sixteen years, didn't once come and sit on me of her own free will. Georgie can't live without sitting on me... or curling around my feet, or following me around... I love her to little kitty bits.
She's been introduced to the ferrets, with not so great results. She's far from impressed by them... they just want to play. So I'm gonna bring the ferrets in one by one... as in, let her get used to having one around, then when she seems fine, bring in another. Could take a while. x.x Oh well.
Living out of home is ruling rather hard. We finally got a washing machine... one that works, too. Bonus! No more hand washing for me.
Can't think of much else to add. Just thought I'd update at random. So yeah.
Bye!
So after much begging and pleading with my lovely housemates, everyone finally agreed on me having a kitten.
So now I have a kitten.
She doesn't have a name yet, but she has tabby markings, long fur and torti colours. She came into the bathroom today while I was showering and just cried... I think she thought I was gonna drown.
She is the sweetest little thing ever. Any suggestions for names woudl be appreciated.
My mice are all gone, including our pest house mouse. Henry died in the little plastic house in their cage, and I just found Daria gone in her new single-mouse tank.
I think she died of heartbreak...
Yep. I sit here amongst a pile of boxes that contain all my things... I'm moving out.
My mother decided to have a screamer at Alicia and I, effectively kicking us out. So we're going to live with her mother for a few weeks while we finish getting our bond together. Which, y'know, definately isn't my ideal situation, but eh. Living in a bin in an alleyway outside some second-rate supermarket would be preferable to living with my mother.
On the third day of Alicia living here, having discovered that she had a job as a manager in Woden, my mother decided she was going to charge us rent. Not only did she decide she wanted us to pay rent, but $100 a week each. And to top it off, she didn't actually want to discuss it with us. She wanted me to be the go-between and ask Alicia for the money on her behalf. She didn't like it when I told her I wouldn't do it and she'd have to talk to Alicia herself.
I don't know. I'm mad at all the immaturity. I resent the woman for telling me all my life that I was the child who was supposed to save her marriage, and I failed. I resent her for hitting me, digging her nails into my arms when she used to get frustrated - fuck, she even hit me the other night. But that was funny 'cause she hit me with a wet dishcloth. XD We were arguing in the kitchen.
But seriously. What sort of a mother, when arguing with her 20-year-old daughter, answers "Look, either we don't pay you rent and get out of the house faster, or we pay you and it'll take us longer." with "I hate you, you're a cunt! I wish you'd die!"
When I leave, I'm changing my mobile number.
Yesterday, I met up with Alex and Alicia for lunch. Alicia was holding a container with what I presumed was food in it... when she lifted it's contents and held it up, saying "This is Butters."
Tiny, three week old baby mouse.
She and Alex had adopted two new mice, the neice and nephew of Alex's pet mouse Spike. Turns out Spike doesn't like other mouse babies... she attacked them rather savagely. So poor Butters and his sister Daria were all covered in bite marks and were bleeding... hence, I adopted them.
They are smaller than my thumb, and they were apparently taken from their mother too early, so it's up to me to be mouse mummy. They're eating and drinking on their own, though it took a little coaxing... little pieces of soggy popcorn and water. They caught into the idea pretty quickly, though. They're far from stupid.
And thus is the excitement of my week.
You know, I'm having trouble finding a friend these days who actually wants to spend time with me and not use me for my money or my car. Which sucks.
Bit took $50 from me today, got me to drive her to her mother's place to pick up some stuff, and then went "Oh, well now I'm staying at Alex's place. Can you take my stuff back to yours? Kthnxbai."
I'm sick and tired of feeling like second choice to everyone. I can call anyone I know and ask to do coffee, and the answer will be along the lines of "Well yeah, if I have nothing better on. I'll call you later."
Maybe it's me? Maybe I'm a horrible person. Maybe I'm unsufferably boring or depressing or just ugly.
Maybe it's time for a buddy transplant altogether.
