I think there are three kinds of Facebook people.

The first type: people with whom you lost touch, who are now reachable solely via Facebook. This is cool because there’s pics of their kids and bits of news and you can reconnect in 10 words or less. No need
for mammoth email.

The second type: people you already know and interact with, and for whom Facebook is an accessory to an already normal friendship. Maybe you now know a lot more minutae but it’s a fun accessory.

The third type: people who are totally enamored of Facebook, so completely into it that they only interact through Facebook. Your friendship with them is now through status update and ‘lil green plants.
That third type is so effing annoying.

I’m in a rotisserie baseball league and have been for longer than I can count. Well, let me try. Um. 10 years?! JESUS CHRIST. I think it’s been since 1997.

I’m horrified. Ok, maybe 1998 but still. What is up with the time and the passing. Is the entire universe on Blog Time where a week is like a year and a half?!

Anyway, enough about my problems locating myself within an appropriately slow-moving space-time continuum.

Last night, Hubby came in second in one of his many fantasy leagues. This one was football, and he didn’t win. But it’s still awesome. Because Sean, who has been playing fantasy sports since the dawn of time, finally won a league. He was one of the original members of Hubby’s rotisserie league, and despite that many years, about fourteen thousand “Time out - gotta look him up” moments during auction drafts, countless different sports leagues, and a wide knowledge of random sports trivia, Sean has never won.

He now has a win. Way to go Sean!

Ok, after uploading that graphic and checking it on the site, I have to say: in that picture, Yogi Berra kind of looks like Sean. Now I’m freaked out. Sean has better teeth though.

Because many people use the plural noun emails, it will soon be standard usage.

NO NO NO NO NO A thousand TIMES NO.

I mother fucking fuck fuck FUCK shit HATE the word “emails.”

That is all.

Today is Friday. Well, for me it is. I’m off tomorrow. And so looking forward to it.

Of course, I have been filling the day, which suddenly seems so short, with stuff to do, and now I have to pick and choose what it is I want to do. Why is it that when I’m working, the day takes a really long time to progress through the hours, but when I’m looking at one day of freedom and playing time, I can’t find enough hours to do what I want to do?

Movie? Out to lunch or breakfast? Shopping.. in a store (NOoooooooo!)?

I have to figure it out. But the allure and lusciousness of knowing that tomorrow I don’t have to get up at 6 and go to work at 645am is going to be such a treat in and of itself.

It is so effing cold. And yet, Wednesday it’s going to be 60F and rainy. Will Hubby and I have a cold by Friday? Saturday? Next week?

Either way, I’m taking of Friday and SO LOOKING FORWARD TO IT OMG.

Dear Migraine:

Fuck you. You may not stop me from doing my thing. I got shit to do.

Not yours,

Morag.

I sneezed myself into a headache. Ow.

I’m wearing leather boots with 2.5” heels. Not ow. Yay, in fact. Heels are comfy.

Though I am tempted to take one off and pound my head with it. Head is throbbing. Ow.

Tonight I go to the ob/gyn for the annual look under the hood. I totally forgot my last appointment last month (BAD BAD BAD) and feel like a complete tool. So I’ll be buying baked goods as bribes and guilty presents.