soapboxdiner

I may wish to be a Cleaver, but being an Ingall's would suck

What is up with ex-coworkers calling out of the blue to try and sell me stuff? Sure, I like her well enough for someone I only knew for 80 hours, but what? Now I'm supposed to regularly provide her with a sales commission for suplemental dental insurance?

Luckily I dodged that bullet when I got another call. As much as I sound all bullying here, I'm really am a pussy cat. No is the hardest word in my vocabulary.

Anyways, off to do the weekly housework while it is still a 21 century practice. Soon the brother will be moving again from my mother's house and will be removing from my own home his entertainment center, vacuum, and kitchen accoutrements stored here. One day very soon I will be making my way into the fields for straw, I fear, with which I may fashion myself a broom. Thankfully I talked him into selling me back my washer and dryer. Searching for rocks on a river bed would have been a real pisser.

12:39 pm - 11.23.02
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