So, I don't know if you'll think this is dorky obsessive with you...
this morning as I was awakening at seven thirty-ish to a cloudy dawn, I was filtering through my dreams and remembering that they were about work and that my friends had been in a plague, kristen had died/gotten real sick and jungle was having an affair with a gray-haired older resistance leader, mostly was being asked to do things at work that i should do happily but that i was so resentful of because it cut away from my 'me' time... blah blah blah.
I thought about starting the day and said suddenly OUT LOUD:
"Happy Birthday Rachel Hepler" (my goodness, i've known you 80% - and dropping - per cent of my time as rachel hepler and it rhymes like kristen martin to me, so i hope you don't mind that that's what I think of "your name" when I think of it.).
"Happy Birthday Rachel!" (I may not have said your last name - coffee not kicked in yet).
Padz whrowwenced and we went to the kitchen (me to put water on to boil).
I surprised Padz and did a rare MORNING "whooooo want wet!?" and gave her some because, as I told her: i'll treat her
because rachel would want me to.
Happy Blasto my dear dear cherished treasured family/friend.
now back to our reqularly scheduled program of self-pity and fag smoking and