It's been a long week. There has been much cleaning, much organizing, and much snuggling with Cooper. There has been much time spent with the munchkins, talk of putting together schooling programs for the three-year-old Monkey boy, and a screaming, teething, eight-month-old (who still captures my heart.)
I lost a friend. Someone I was close to. After a series of fights, I gave her the option to walk away, and she did. I said some things I probably shouldn't have. She said some things she probably shouldn't have. It saddens me. It hurts. I miss her. But sometimes, the best thing you can do for everyone involved in a relationship is to let go.
My apartment is almost back to normal, but my laundry still isn't all done.
Cooper ate half my orange chicken this afternoon. I didn't really intend for him to - and usually, he is very good about leaving my food alone - but I didn't mind either. In all fairness, I was eating on the floor. Usually, when I put a dish on the floor, it means he is allowed to eat it. It's okay though. I didn't really need it. And I don't mind sharing with my puppy.
Kelly and I took on the boys, Dave and Muecke (that's pronounced, Mickey, ya'll) in a rousing game of 42 today. Just in case you didn't know how geeky I am already, I will now tell you that one of my favorite things in the world to do is to play 42. It's a partner domino game, based on bidding, calling trump, and talking insane amounts of trash. It's a high strategy game, but there is a lot of luck involved. And we ALMOST beat them. Almost. Dirty, stinking boys.
I love playing with Kelly as my partner. Over the years, we've switched out a few times. I've played with Muecke, and Kelly has played with Dave. I've brought in new friends to learn, and taken them as my partner. And while I've enjoyed switching it up occasionally, I'd rather play with Kelly than anyone else. For one thing, I can't play against her. We've been partners for so long that she knows how I play. For another thing, the smack talk isn't nearly as much fun with someone else on my team.
Summer classes started up. I have Economics, downtown, at six. Yes. Economics. Downtown. Rush Hour. Taught by a guy who had a glaring spelling error on his syllabus and a glaring grammar error on his class notes. I realize that my grammar is not perfect, but I do know that two subjects require the use of "are" rather than "is." As in, Bobbi and Kelly are better than the boys at dominoes. Not Bobbi and Kelly is going to win next time. The professor was also late to class. This is unfathomable to me, as being late makes me extremely anxious.
My other classes are online. Intro Psych, Intro Sociology, and Government. The Government class makes me want to set my hair on fire, but it's only an 11 week course. I can survive it. I'm sure I can. I hope. Psych and Sociology should be entertaining. If my books ever arrive.
So, it's been an interesting week. I'm stuck on this godawful nocturnal schedule, which I love, but also hate. I don't mind being nocturnal, but it doesn't work so well for anyone else in my life. Here's hoping that it all gets a little better.
And Mellie, if you're listening, I miss you. But I understand why you left.