Home. Ugh. I realized that I probably have work at 4am tomorrow, so I had to leave mom's house right in the middle of watching 23. DAMNIT.
Mom shoved money in my face, so I put $15 in my tank and damn near filled it. YAY. Gotta love them Geos. And I got some Monstewwws. So I can quit stressing about that. Just have to pick up a pack of smokes. Drove straight past the smoke shop in Arlington 'cause the sun was in my face and I couldn't see the fucking turn. UGH.
It feels like tomorrow is Friday for some reason. It's driving me mad. But yeah. Looks like I'm getting off work on Friday at 3:30, picking up Terry, and we're possibly gonna go see that one movie. Fuck. What was it called? Hot Rod? Yeah. Then on Saturday I guess we're going to Guitar Center so he can buy a new guitar. Yay. I love going there and drooling over instruments that I can't afford and I really won't end up playing anyway. Heh.
But yeah. Got home and immediately stepped in a pile of cat shit. Then proceded to clean up... wait for it! SIX. PILES. OF CAT SHIT. Can't deal with this anymore. Honestly. It's obvious that Mittertail has got to go. But what really fucking sucks is that Durka has followed suit and now HE'S shitting on the floor. FABULOUS! It's not like the litter box is full, either. It doesn't fucking make sense.
Goddamnit. If I wasn't almost positive that I have to work so ridiculously early tomorrow, I'd still be at mom's. Eating baked 'tatoes. Damnit.
I guess I'm gonna go and clean up as much as I can without waking Sarah. Guh.
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