frazzled-imp's Diaryland Diary

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Weekend synopsis.

It was a slow and sluggish weekend.

I think that could be the first sentence in the story of my life.

Good stuff, folks. Really good stuff.

I did manage to get some laundry done, even if it was only half a load. It was enough to make me feel moderately productive, and less guilty about being a zombified goop shuffling about the house all weekend.

I didn�t sleep well either Friday or Saturday night.

I can�t remember what kept me up on Friday. I only know that I didn�t sleep well.

Saturday night, Aislinn woke up screaming at about 2:30 a.m. Shot right up in bed, and began to wail. Those gasping, hiccupping wails that make you worry that your child is going to pass out.

She scared the ever-living shit out of me.

It took me almost two hours to get her calmed down, and I never did get what was wrong out of her. She didn�t want to talk about the dream, so I didn�t press the issue. Finally, she drifted off again, and I was able to get to sleep around 5 a.m.

Despite being exhausted, and besides doing the laundry, I got around to making these delicious lemon poppy seed muffins. So good.

Too good, in fact. I�ve eaten five of them already.

*oink*

Have you ever read a book, and really been into it, only to have the whole thing turn to complete and utter shit in the last 30 pages?

That�s what happened to me last night.

I spent roughly a week reading Icy Sparks, and the ending was a complete letdown. It was awful. It was so bad it ruined the entire book for me.

I wanted to throw the book out into the yard.

I probably would of, had it not been a library book.

If there�s anything that pisses me off more than getting sucked into reading a shitty book, it�s having to pay damage fines for a shitty book.

Simon had to be sent away.

I tried to get him to eat by separating him from the rest of the tank, but the little guy refused to eat any food.

I put him back in the tank, and watched.

He went straight to his corner, and floated at the top of the tank, barely moving. Except when Garfunkle came around to terrorize him. And, from the looks of it, Garfunkle was dead set on killing him. They�d gotten along pretty well before that, and none of their chasing each other around had seemed vicious, so I figured something must have been wrong with Simon.

Down the toilet bowl he went.

So, dad brought home a new guppy yesterday morning. It looks exactly like Simon, only bigger. Kind of creepy, really.

I�ve named him Otis, and he seems to be settling into his new home just fine. At least he didn�t take after his predecessor and float around the top of the tank, refusing to eat. No, Otis is a little fishy pig.

So, now our tank consists of four fish, named: Garfunkle, Joplin, Floyd and Otis.

Or, if you�re Aislinn: Garfucker, Joppy, Floy and Osits.

It�s all good.

12:24 PM - April 28, 2003

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