In which I do a lot of nothing and am grumpy about it. The important points are in bold.

Yesterday I was not at work because my uterus exploded violently into a million sharp little serrated shards, and tried to crawl slowly and with cruel intent around my abdomen.

I spent the day in bed popping Pamprin and feeling extraordinarily sorry for myself. When I wasn’t crying, that is.

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Friday night we went out and tagged along on a double date with the Holy Couple and SMcL & MissT, making it a triple date. It was fun. But the service in the new restaurant above the bar? Sucked. We got there at eight and weren’t done until ten thirty.

I think the guy who owns the place is losing his mind – he almost threw a woman out of the bar because she, angry at her husband for spilling a very sweet and sticky cocktail all over her outfit, hit the bathroom door with the flat of her little hand. And later when I told him he should get Red Bull on tap because his bartenders waste tons of time opening those little cans to make Jager Bombs, he went nearly apoplectic on me and claimed it didn’t come on tap. “Oh,” I said, easing out of the conversation, “that’s silly. It should be on tap.” I didn’t tell him how many bars I’ve been in that do have it – well, okay, a generic version – on tap.

Saturday I did nothing. I didn’t get dressed. I didn’t even put my contacts in. It was lovely. Bread went out and played poker, but came back too early for it to have been a relaxing day alone for me.

Sunday Bread dragged me to Iowa City to meet his sister KW at Menards to look at the fixtures she’ll be getting in her basement remodel. After shopping we all went to Olive Garden for lunch. I was pretty much tired and cranky and pissed off that I had to go in the first place, because if I never go to another Menards again that would be ideal… and I suppose there might have been a touch of PMS happening there… but mainly I didn’t see why I had to be late for band practice just so he didn’t have to go work by himself.

Bread dropped me off at rehearsal. The board was back, but it wasn’t fixed. Gear sucks. Bands spend more time fucking with their gear than they ever do playing. If they can make a 6 oz. device that lets you watch movie in HD, they should be able to make PAs that are small, affordable, and don’t suck. *rolleyes* We celebrated BvB’s birthday by eating cake and ice cream. I had a giggling sugar fit and had tons of fun… until I crashed. Hate the sugar crash. *sigh*

I played Asteroids on my iPod while booted into Linux. My geek dick is, like, twelve inches long.

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Now it’s Tuesday and I’m at work and I’ve got web sites to move from one server to another. If I had a clever thought in my head I’d write it here for your amusement, but I don’t. You’ll just have to settle for the knowledge that I adore you, my lovelies.