Friday, August 21, 2009

Don't pet me just yet!

Have you ever gone to bed feeling completely satisfied? Yeah, me neither.

Actually, today was a very good day. It started a bit rough, but I'm definitely not complaining now. I slept in until about 11am, potentially solved a serious situation by 1pm, goofed off at Wally-World with my amazing roommate, and ate chicken strips for dinner. Could it have gotten better after that?

Yes. Yes, it could.

I hung out with Kevin from 8pm-2am. He called me up and said he missed me and wanted to know if I could come over. I figured I would because as much as I hate to admit it sometimes with our dysfunctional relationship -- I missed him, too. I was originally leaving at 10:30 -- I was even in my car with the engine started. He had walked me out like he always does, and he was walking back up his sidewalk to the front door, then he just randomly took a 180 and came back to my car. I rolled down the window, and he asked if I could come back inside because he didn't want me to leave yet and was already missing me. I used to get sucked up into that rare, caring nature of his, but instead of getting all giddy, I just nonchalantly said, "Alright, it's better than going home and going to bed, I guess..." lol.

He's apparently taking me out to dinner tomorrow night. He wants to go to Olive Garden because he knows I love it. He doesn't like italian food... He literally probably won't eat if we go there, but he wants to take me there because I love the salad and he knows I rarely ever get to go. *tries not to get sucked up into the rare, caring nature* We'll probably end up going to Red Lobster, which is fine. I love Red Lobster, too. We always go there whenever we go out, though, because he loves their chicken strips and top-shelf margaritas. Ha.

I NEED TO SLEEP. It's 3am and I need to get up at 9. Actually, 6 hours of sleep is a good night for me. Why am I complaining? ^_-

So, I realized earlier today that I have a papercut-type cut on the inside of my left pointer finger. I think I cut it while cutting scrapie at work on Wednesday... to translate: I think I cut it with a razor blade while wearing gloves and cutting possibly infected sheep brains at work on Wednesday. For you to better grasp the importance of this... here is google's definition for "scrapie": a fatal disease of sheep characterized by chronic itching and loss of muscular control and progressive degeneration of the central nervous system. Think of it as the "mad cow disease" of sheep...

So, to recap: I might have cut myself while cutting possibly infected sheep brains. Super. I could have sheep rabies. There's never been a confirmed case of it transferring to a human... but I WOULD be that lucky first. >.> So, let's cross our cut fingers and hope for the best! In the words of my roommate: "So, if you start growling and foaming at the mouth, I shouldn't pet you?" Bahaha.

On that note... I'm going to attempt some sleep.

Buenos noches!

--Miss Sarcastic

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