A WEEK FROM TODAY.

I don't think I can stand it. I've got a tape for tonight, need to get tapes for the rest of the stuff. Need to buy Rolling Stone. NEED TO CALM DOWN.

Boss knows that I want to take off next week. Asked if I had special plans? Ah, no. Unless you call spamming LJ and passing out in a JC-induced coma clutching his solo CD *plans*, that is. ;-)

Nothing pithy today except maybe a cryptic "Whatever" accompanied by an eye roll aimed somewhere in the general direction of...somewhere. Like I said, cryptic. < /cryptic >

Time to get ready for work. I *really* need to hit the lottery or something, 'cause this working for a living gig is seriously putting a crimp in my preferred fan girl lifestyle.

JC!!! Speaking of JC, spread the GIP lurve, kids. It's a phrase everyone can live with. Nods to the fabulous fuskeez for the idea.

G to the I to the P, y'all.

Yep, a new Age of Chasez icon because really, can one have too many? I think not. And look! This one accurately conveys my feelings on the seven day countdown to come! SEVEN DAYS!

JC and me. We're waiting. Counting the days. Yes.

JC!

Soon to be divorced. Maybe.

See, I need to learn how to work these electronic devices by myself.

The husband got a wild hair up his ass and decided that tonight would be the night he sets the VCR's timer to record. Look honey, no human intervention needed! It's all set and the tape's in. Have I mentioned the fact that we've never done this before?

I don't think he was happy with my original plan (which hasn't failed me yet): Turn TV to channel. Turn VCR on. Put tape in and hit 'record.' Let VCR do its thing. Whee! No human intervention needed! He didn't seem happy that the VCR would be running while we sleep. Oy, I tell ya.

If tomorrow's lead story on CNN is about an Ohio woman who, in a fit of VCR-induced rage, murdered her husband in his sleep, yes, that would be me. ::grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr::

Gotta get up early, or I'd stay up for the boy. JC! I really want to stay up, but I'm already as tired as a person can be. Very tired.

JC, sweetie, I love you. Knock 'em dead. ::smooch::