I didn't think this week would EVER end.

It's like I was in a time warp, minus Tim Curry, and was just mundanely going through every task. My house looks like a freight train went through it twice and I'm pretty sure I need to do about 30 loads of laundry. My boss pissed me off more than once, as is pretty much the norm but it just got to me this week, and I haven't dealt with this many difficult cases all at once in a while. 

So you can say that, yes, I am happy the weekend is here. My plan is to essentially do nothing. Three and I have plans to go see a movie, which we haven't done in a long time because of time constraints and money. Plus, Father's Day is Sunday, so I think we're grilling out? I should probably call my mom just to be sure, so we don't show up at their house while they have sex or something. Because that would be gross. 

It's weird to think that a few months ago, I was ... I don't want to say depressed, since I think that word is thrown around too lightly these days. But I was down. Our future was unstable and we weren't able to pay our bills and ugh. Now, I can think about sleeping and taking Zola to get groomed (for $15! STEAL!!) and getting my hair cut and writing again and planting tomatoes. I didn't really realize how incredibly limbo-ish my life was. I was stuck. Now I can breathe. 

You know, I don't even know what this post is about anymore. Bedtime, methinks?