Harry Longshanks
ILikeBigPutts&ICannotLie
Or perhaps too little. Your body could have been going through caffeine withdrawal.
No, I just had a spaz attack. I don't think it was chemically induced.
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Or perhaps too little. Your body could have been going through caffeine withdrawal.
No, I just had a spaz attack. I don't think it was chemically induced.
Were you overwhelmed by your playing partner? That may explain the babble. I talk more when I'm nervous.
And none of it had anything to do with being nervous or intimidated or anything like that. I just spontaneously spazzed out.
Like someone who had WAY too much caffeine.
I get those too. If I don't remember them at all, I'll just ignore the request, but if I remember the name but not the person, I'll ask them, "Who are you?" If I get a good reply, I'll accept, but I've rejected a few that I didn't want to be friends with. Does that make me mean?
I friggin' HATE door to door solicitors.
My house should be the one place where I am guaranteed to not have to deal with unwanted people - whether that be in person or on the telephone.
Just because the doorbell or the telephone rings doesn't mean you have to answer.
But what if it is the Publisher's Clearinghouse people with my big check?
Don't you have a window through which you can peek before answering the door?
Only the one in the door. It's a typical small Seattle cottage.
(Front windows are just as obvious.)
I got a friend request on Facebook today and finally figured out who it was - the mean girl from 6th grade. I have to admit I took a little pleasure in looking at her photo and seeing she was a lot bigger than I remembered. I guess that makes me mean.
. . . and people think I am the THP stalking expert . . .
So, is she your new FB friend?
. . . and people think I am the THP stalking expert . . .
I friggin' HATE door to door solicitors.
My house should be the one place where I am guaranteed to not have to deal with unwanted people - whether that be in person or on the telephone.
Just answer the door naked. They will stop coming around.
That may fly in L.A., but here, I'd be listed on the sex offender registry before you could say "pork sword".
While I was out of town, Boo Girl took it upon herself to do the laundry. She was great--she wrote out directions for herself and called a couple of times to ask about things like unbalanced loads and folding sheets.
Then Hubby teased her about spending so much time doing the laundry, so she stopped because it hurt her feelings. (Yeah, yeah--drama queen.) I have done six loads of laundry in the past two days (around working full time, arriving home at 12:30 am the other night, etc. etc.) and there's more to go.
Grrr.
Sounds like Hubby needs a weeks laundry duty as punishment.
If the Hello Kitty band-aid hurts, I'd try just a regular band-aid. Or maybe you just have it too tight.