poop

Kinda my day today.

Got icky grades.

Got icky phone calls.

got semi-icky e-mails.

Got icky IMs. (Kathryn, you’re smart, what’s the antidote to a pile of <happy pills I can’t remember>? Um, a stomach pump, get the kid to a hospital.)

Called my Beloved so I could get a hug I desperatly need. He says he’ll be over after his martial arts class, which ends at seven. he fails to show.

poop.

Felt like sharing, I’m going to go throw up and to to bed. Might improve my day.

Do it in that order, or it won’t improve nothin’.

{{{{{Kathryn}}}}}

Geez, I know it wasn’t all fun and games, but I hope my e-mail wasn’t one of the “semi-icky” ones…

Sorry to hear the day was a nasty one. You know I’d be glad to listen if you want to call, or even make the drive just to give you that hug if you so desire.

Let me know, K?