toy box

listening to: phantom planet-the guest, everything but the girl:walking wounded

feeling: totally unable to face kickboxing today. contemplating taking an alternate course of action.

wondering: if my detective work has led me in the right direction; what's with today today.

thinking about: baking more of my (apparently) infamous cookies, which if i do at all i'll have to do tonight. busy week.

slightly: shell shocked. too much of my past in the last two or three days.

i have a new toy.

a new toy which has promptly eaten the phone number of the freshman year love of my life who i saw yesterday for the first time in four years. whoops. ah well, nothing a little detective work and luck won't fix.

but, all that aside, i have a new toy. a very sexy new toy.

now, drag your mind out of the gutter, gertrude. i am, of course, referring to my new phone. it's little and flippy and silver and still, like all my phones before it, plays "sweet child o' mine" when it rings.

we're talking endless hours of amusement here.

and a new phone number, which god only knows how long i'll take to memorize.

and a great deal of repeat postage as i resend my demo with the correct contact information. ah well.

and the sudden realization that i must print my posters. today.

and an amazing wish that my company would hire a fucking receptionist because technically, my department is not allowed to answer the phone (yeah, figure that one), but three days out of the week, we're the only ones in here. and so we get reamed by clients for not having answers and reamed by higher ups for answering or not answering as the case may be. as it is, we've all developed a serious loathing for answering the company phone. it's rapidly degenerating into a game of audio chicken: who cracks first and picks up the receiver?

eh.

anyway.

toy. (flippy)

boy. (nostalgic)

joy! (possibly. ask me in three hours.)

now back to the grind!