Well, that sucks.

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Hey, y’all. I know, I know. WTF have I been up to that I haven’t written. Well, the truth is, I have a pretty fucking crazy life at the moment, and it’s even crazier than usual, and not in a good way. Not in the “I’m too busy having crazyass sex every night to sit up and blog for you people,” way. More like the, “I’m too busy working my ass off and taking care of my minions while moving and dealing with a bunch of family crap,” way. So, you know, fun.

And now it’s summer vacation, and with the minions off school for the next year and a half (well, it FEELS like summer lasts that long!), I just don’t know how much blogging I’ll be doing. But, you awesome web dwellers, you deserve more than to have me vanish into the ether, so here’s an little snapshot of Cathy’s World at the moment.

Rest In Peace, Mr. Coffee. Praised Be.

I’m still “seeing” Northman virtually. Things have cooled off between us a bit. I think the novelty has kind of worn off. We’re close. We’re good friends. We have rockin’ Skype sex. He’s funny (not as funny as I am, but you know, nobody’s perfect). We have a solid connection and good chemistry. But the fact is, he’s there and I’m here, and even though we still plan to get together later this year, I’m not so sure it’ll be the fuckfest we had initially planned. Above and beyond all else, we want each other to be happy, and so I’m happy for him that he’s been dating someone who actually lives a car ride (and not a plane ride) away. I’m not even jealous or envious. I love him. I want him to find happiness, even if that means I never get to sleep with him. Although sleeping with him — and let me be clear, I mean fucking him — would be awesome. 

Jerry is still around here and there. He’s still kind of a douche canoe sometimes — so cocky — but he’s also a good guy who’s fun to hang out with. Work is busy with clients both interesting and boring as dirt. My minions are little Fonzies. Coolest fucking people you’ll ever meet, but without the leather jackets. Mr. Coffee died and was reincarnated at Target in a stainless steel body. Penny is up to her usual chicanery, always calling because she’s stunned at the idiocy and inefficiency of the average American only to have me remind her that she’s just so much smarter than average that what seems like common sense to her is Advanced Calculus to a person with a 100-point IQ. She hasn’t made me laugh into tears lately, or you’d have heard about it. But it won’t be long.

Oh, and I did read the new Sookie book, and I thought it fucking sucked. But I’ll live because the new season of True Blood starts in four days. Sookie better get some Northman sex. I mean, Sweet Jesus in Birks. At least one of us should.

3 responses »

  1. Pingback: Don’t Kill The Messenger « Confessions of a Sexy Mom

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