littlehobbitfeet

I wanted to call in sick today, but figured that since I still had a lot of tings on my desk that I had to finish, I'd go in and then go home for the afternoon to snuggle up with an afghan and neocitran and work on my husband's christmas scarf (which I got finished tonight, so it'll be a total secret when he opens it. Woo!), but when I got in, George accosted me and told me that the other girl wasn't coming in because she was sick.
Fuck.
OH WELL.
After work, I went out and bought a second rietman's sweater (I'm wearing one today. I bought the white version. Cabled hoodie sweater. BEAUTIFUL.) and a caramel machiatto and knit my ass off while watching the Sleepaway Camp marathon on Scream.
I fucking love that shit.
SO, I finished the scarf and am coming home tomorrow at lunch to make sure the house is nice and homey for my international traveller (ie: bath cleaned, sheets clean, kitchen clean... mostly just everything clean. And all of his presents that I bought while he was gone hidden until Christmas.)
And now I'm watching Faking It on Life (a little virgin church-girl choir singer faking being a rock star... badly) wearing Chad's scarf (The Licorice Scarf now) and sneezing into kleenex brand mentholyptus infused snot tissue.
Before bed, I'll probably go get the Christmas Presents Box, change the sheets and clean out the bathtub. Less to do tomorrow while I'm eating Mr. Noodles.

Incidentally, I thought of a beautiful name for a baby girl. It's Oiseau. But I can't use it, because it sounds stupid with my last name.
Not that I'm pregnant.
Not that I want a girl.
But le sob regardless.

(Oh, I'm also going to apply to work at Starbucks part time to make some extra bucks while I'm a training widow this winter. Yay.)