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Wiffle...thud.
May. 27th, 2008 04:28 amI left VARF at about 7.30. I got home about 2am.
Huzzah Memorial Day Weekend traffic.
Yer all bastards.
Huzzah Memorial Day Weekend traffic.
Yer all bastards.
May. 27th, 2008
Three days of suck.
May. 27th, 2008 10:30 pmThat was my weekend. Three and a half, technically.
Not. One. Sale. Nothing. Four last week, and not a nibble this week. Is it because another costumer showed up with cheap(er) corsets? No idea.
Lots of uncomfortable interpersonal crap. Partly cleared up, but it left me with a bad feeling, and I spent much of Monday really, really angry.
I'm supposed to have MORE money after working my ass off for three days straight. I'm broke.
The girls are allergic to Clue. There were hideous amounts of allergens in the air this weekend, true, but the long-haired dog in the hotel room from Friday to Monday didn't help.
I got a note Monday morning about the barking. Was sure it meant the end of weekends with my dog, but thank G-d she spent most of the day napping-- she lives to VARF another day.
I spent a good part of the weekend alone in my booth, Ryan not being able to breathe and all. I need my alone time, yay, and it's not like I was slammed, but it did rather highlight the suck.
The drive home, with one dinner break, and one short break, took SIX AND A HALF HOURS. I was fine for most of it-- thank you![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snugglyevil and dansr and Stacy, but the last hour was fucking hell. I resorted to the old standby of chewing on my fingers to stay awake. Clue's a lousy conversationalist.
Walked into my bedroom to discover the cats-- probably Simon, had vomited ALL OVER MY BED. Thank G-d I'd pulled the duvet up. But I'm out of detergent, so washing the cover and all my other laundry has to wait. I think the duvet itself, after a decade of animal accidents like this, is beyond saving. If so, it'll go to an animal shelter.
I napped much of today. I needed the sleep, yeah, but I had weird dreams, and I've gotten nothing done, of course. I'm trying to get the sketch of my booth done to send to Lars, but I'm feeling somewhat bitter now: dream large, but don't expect to be able to afford anything for a long, long time. Yay for opening a business in a recession.
It wasn't all bad. The VARF version of a Funky Formal is a potluck/crab fest. That was a great deal of fun. I also had some really neat people come in-- some to talk costuming, some just to fawn over Kahlua (which she accepted as her just due).
I'm tired, still kind of cranky, and online dating sites are pissing me off. Oh, and I missed the new Daily show, so I'll have to watch it at 1. Cranky.
Not. One. Sale. Nothing. Four last week, and not a nibble this week. Is it because another costumer showed up with cheap(er) corsets? No idea.
Lots of uncomfortable interpersonal crap. Partly cleared up, but it left me with a bad feeling, and I spent much of Monday really, really angry.
I'm supposed to have MORE money after working my ass off for three days straight. I'm broke.
The girls are allergic to Clue. There were hideous amounts of allergens in the air this weekend, true, but the long-haired dog in the hotel room from Friday to Monday didn't help.
I got a note Monday morning about the barking. Was sure it meant the end of weekends with my dog, but thank G-d she spent most of the day napping-- she lives to VARF another day.
I spent a good part of the weekend alone in my booth, Ryan not being able to breathe and all. I need my alone time, yay, and it's not like I was slammed, but it did rather highlight the suck.
The drive home, with one dinner break, and one short break, took SIX AND A HALF HOURS. I was fine for most of it-- thank you
snugglyevil and dansr and Stacy, but the last hour was fucking hell. I resorted to the old standby of chewing on my fingers to stay awake. Clue's a lousy conversationalist.Walked into my bedroom to discover the cats-- probably Simon, had vomited ALL OVER MY BED. Thank G-d I'd pulled the duvet up. But I'm out of detergent, so washing the cover and all my other laundry has to wait. I think the duvet itself, after a decade of animal accidents like this, is beyond saving. If so, it'll go to an animal shelter.
I napped much of today. I needed the sleep, yeah, but I had weird dreams, and I've gotten nothing done, of course. I'm trying to get the sketch of my booth done to send to Lars, but I'm feeling somewhat bitter now: dream large, but don't expect to be able to afford anything for a long, long time. Yay for opening a business in a recession.
It wasn't all bad. The VARF version of a Funky Formal is a potluck/crab fest. That was a great deal of fun. I also had some really neat people come in-- some to talk costuming, some just to fawn over Kahlua (which she accepted as her just due).
I'm tired, still kind of cranky, and online dating sites are pissing me off. Oh, and I missed the new Daily show, so I'll have to watch it at 1. Cranky.