Monday 19 January 2015

Pseudoscifi.

Joel is aghast that I am turning down free, local, voluntary, familiar help as I forge ahead with his banishment.

Jasper is outraged that I nailed his boss again when that's all he ever wants in life, please and thank you.

Caleb is incensed that I still don't seem to need him.

Ben is busy.

Duncan is white-knuckling life and I want to help him so I stay away.

Lochlan is keeping his cards close and won't tell me what he's thinking about the whole job-offer thing in case someone gets ahold of me and I squawk before he's ready. It's happened. I'm a pushover and I'm gullible. I'm also horribly ticklish. It's a favor, leaving me out in the cold, trust me. I never could keep very many secrets. Once I'm full, I'm full.

PJ is tired, so I'm making dinner by myself though Dalton is about to jump right in here because again, I slipped and admitted I still have a very bad headache. If he can chop up some heads of broccoli we'll be in the clear I think.

Blue Monday? You're freaking right it's Blue Monday.

The good news is it's almost over.

The even better news? New winter tyres on Lochlan's truck because the ones he brought from the prairies were falling apart and unsafe. Not an expense that he needed right now so I put it on the black card. That will buy him some time, at least. He was so mad that I paid for them but also kind of glad for a little more time to cover the cost, I think.

It's like the whole point is half in rich dark shades of black and the other half is always in the red.