Stars fading, but I linger on dear

It's fairly late here at Chez Cheung, but I'm resisting the call of my comfy bed and Richard Jury novel because I haven't seen my husband all day and I'm holding out hope I'll see him before I fall asleep, my glasses askew, my mouth open and a novel balanced on my stomach. His office is taking part in the Evil Move this weekend and since Phillip is the employee tasked with Keeping The Internet Alive, he's somewhat, ah, indispensible. To which I say: harrumph. It's time I sat down with that boss of his and explained who really is the boss of Phillip. That would be me. The only in-person conversation I've had with my husband today is the oh-my-God-we're-being-burglarized-moment that occurred as I was gracefully attempting to get ready for my buttcrack of dawn meeting without waking him up.

Me: bodyslamming the dresser
Me: *&@#!
Phillip: Wha? WHA? WHO'S THERE?
Me: *(@$# quieter this time
Phillip: Maggie? Are you okay?
Me: *(@#$@# furniture.

It's not the kind of communication recommended for long-lasting relationships.

Also? I am tired. Tie. Erd. The last week or so has been a marathon. On the pro side, I am a social butterfly who is somehow miraculously managing the crazy because the anxiety monster has not bitten me in a while. (AMEN.) On the con side, I need a nap. Or fifteen. Get this: I am too tired to watch yesterday's Veronica Mars. That is a REALLY BAD SIGN.

I am not too tired to sit in front of my computer blogsurfing and obsessively checking my email.

How come no one emails me? Boooo.

I wanted to do a few things this week and weekend. I had big plans to make big heart-shaped cookies to bring to work on Valentine's Day. (Yes, I am that girl. If it weren't for the fact that I'm the only person in my office who knows how to use mail merge, I'd assume my job security was based solely on the quantity of baked goods I bring each week.) Earlier this week I made actual valentines which I was actually going to send, but now that means finding my address book (which has been mysteriously absent since the move) and buying stamps (damn the stamp increase!) and, you know, dropping them off in a mailbox. If you were expecting a Christmas card from me, you may also now be disappointed at your lack of valentine. The stoning will commence at sunrise. I was going to send my brother this game so he'd have something to do in the desert. I was going to send chocolates to my sister-in-law and a Christmas gift to Malia (I KNOW I KNOW) and get a head start on those other birthday gifts I have to mail out (ha! I said head start. FUNNY.) I also have a bathroom that looks like it is growing it's own head of hair and two tons of laundry heaped in the closet. But tonight I watched TV, drooled over a catalog and read the entire Internet. Which I can totally do TOMORROW. At WORK. GAH.

I am actually going to San Antonio this weekend. I have some family things to do and it's not exactly for leisure, but I hear they have warmth down there in Texas and I must say I'm looking forward to that. Saturday looks to be crap, but Sunday will be sixty-seven degrees. That's, like, JULY in Washington State. I am totally shaving my legs.

The flight leaves at 6 am Saturday morning and a shuttle will pick me up at 3:20. THREE. TWENTY. AY. EM. I didn't even bother harassing Phillip to drop me off, if I even see him before then. He's still not home, he won't be home tomorrow and it's a good thing I'm leaving this weekend because I probably won't see him till sometime on Tuesday when he's forced to come home and shower. Stupid move. I don't see what was wrong with the old office.

(Except for the fact that Phillip's broom closet was as wide as his femurs and he had two giant monitors propped up on a desk resembling the beat-up gouged-out barely-standing "desk" I had when I was eight. And a crappy chair. That company bought a 52-inch plasma TV; they better buy my husband a new chair.)

(Watch- I'll be the first person to get her husband fired because of her blog.)

I have half a post written about the church dinner. I have half a post written about what I'm doing NEXT weekend. (V. v. exciting.) And I have this craptastic post written while half awake and sort of tipsy.

'night everyone.