You don't realize how desperate I am. Ever since our separation, I've been paying women to touch me.

I don't like posting more than one picture on this thing. Depending on the computer, the format appears to be completely different. Oh well, whatever.

Another exciting Friday at my exciting job. It's nowhere near six, either. And tomorrow brings us Angelika joy, which, all things permitting, should just mean starting movies and kicking back with Darkness, Take My Hand, a Dennis Lehane I've yet to read. I seem to just read that set out of order.

I feel like I should really cook tonight. I've been pathetic. I was at least going to wrangle some tacos or nachos last night, but there was this major episode with queso that shouldn't have been one iota as complicated as it was. And really, it's all because of the catfood I started buying. I have to buy the catfood at Whole Foods, so hey, I'll get the rest of the crap I need, right? WRONG. Apparently, your basic ghetto-style queso is waaaay too pleb for Whole Foods. Add to that a creepy guy who remembers you buying catfood before (this may be the guy who marked out the expensive stuff and gave to me, how foolish was I to be impressed he was doing his job) and have him stalk you while you grocery shop. It becomes a little game and you buy a frozen pizza for the husband, mozzarella sticks for yourself and you get the fuck out of there.

Even when I was single, I never found myself getting all twitchy and sweaty for someone who said, "I never forget a pretty face!" I was a little irritated at having to maintain the facade that I like people, seeing as how working hours had long ceased, so I muttered something about it being a tired face. "Still pretty!" he chirped. *facepalm*

I tried to wrap up my shopping experience as rapidly as possible, with my eager helper frequently offering to hunt down whatever I might want. And the queso episode (which involved him bothering a woman I had already asked, so now I was briefly that asshole customer everyone hates because they never believe what they're told the first time) ended with him marking out some hummus and giving it to me. So at least lunch is free today. And garlicy, a bonus for my customer service skills.