More Working

I am tired, and I just don't have it in me to be working hard today.  It has been much more hardly working.  And I have Pier 1 tonight and tomorrow!  Although tomorrow at day job I need to actually accomplish most of if not actually all of my to do list.  Which is totally doable as it is not that long. 

 

Le sigh.  I am just sort of drab today.  I feel like soggy toast.  I don't feel sick or anything just like I need a vacation or a really long nap.  I did however get flowers this morning as a belated administrative professionals day gift.  That perked up the morning.  They are still perched on the edge of my desk.  Red lilies and orange and yellow tulips and yellow snapdragons and some purple and pink filler and ferns.  Very nice.

 

That is all I have today--although I hear some of the participants of the music swap have gotten my gift, so I hope they like it.  I have had time to listen to exactly 1/2 of all of the cd's I have received from the music swap.  Margaret's has been in the CD player.  Although actually I have listened to like 2 and 1/2 of the cds that Chrissy sent me way back a month or so ago.

 

I am kind of not at my house ever.  In part because 2 jobs and a play keep you out for like 13, 14 and 15 hour days at least three and sometimes 4 or 5 days a week, so that means not so much downtime there.  But on top of that I am trying to see the bf as much as possible, so I stay at his house a lot (for example I have seen my roommate at our house last over a week ago--granted an actual trip out of town is in that time but whatever and for second example my luggage from said trip was at his house until Wednesday evening when we had returned on Sunday).  It happens.  But this means I am rarely near my cd player or my computer.  Maybe this weekend I will put them on the ipod?  That would help because I am very often sitting on public transportation with headphones in.  Ahhh, life.

 

It is the stage where I start to ponder whether the consequences of moving in with my boyfriend are greater or less than the consequences of living out of a back pack and other bags?  Not that I have in any way broached the subject of actual cohabitation with the bf.  I just ponder it now, when I did not used to.