Crazy Monkey Woman

(That is the title of a Pietasters song. The song is, obviously, about me.)

So I haven't been around much this week. I know that you have all noticed, because you left so many comments asking me where I was and why I wasn't blogging. [meaningful glare]

The reason for my absence is that I was performing labor in exchange for money. I think civilized people refer to this as "work." As I am uncivilized, I will refer to it as "extortion." There is no reasoning behind this word choice. Jenn works for a catering company, and I was their extra kitchen help this week. I think the technical term might be either "prep cook" or "whipping boy." I'm not sure because I have never done either professionally before. It was rather grueling extortion, as I had to leave the house by 7:00 each morning and did not get home until after 5:00. Also I was on my feet all day and chopping things is not as easy on the shoulders as I had thought. As a result, I was pretty much jelly at the end of each day, to the point that Will actually made dinner. Not that he isn't capable of doing so, just that it is usually my task. I extorted Wednesday through Saturday, which means that I missed a large chunk of my usual weekend sloth. We made up for it by having the Best (rest of the) Weekend Ever.

Last night Jenn came over, bringing supplies for supper. She cooked dumplings and we had them with some kim chi. Then she and Will drank beer and we all listened to music for hours. A vast majority of it was ska, which was nice because we rarely listen to any of our reasonably large collection anymore. After Jenn left and Will went to bed I caught up on 4 days' worth of WD posts. YIKES. That was quite a task. There was a great moment when Beth and I were the only two people online, and we were going to have sex, but there was an anonymous lurker and we were concerned that It might watch.

Speaking of the WD...No. Nevermind.

This afternoon Will and I had the following exchange after eating yummy homemade sushi (really maki, but nevermind):

Will: I do wish I had Matty's metabolism...
Annika: Well, you've got a foot on him, anyway.
Will: Yes, and in more than one place!

Hee. I miss that short, yellow-haired, ugly motherfucker. He never writes. (I think I can accept his illiteracy as an excuse, but it is wearing thin.)

And finally, I don't know if she reads this, but tomorrow is Rian's birthday. Love you, muffin.