So, I get ready in the morning, for work and for the evening bus ride. I had packed on Thursday, so I had little extra to do. Just go to work and grab the bus.
Work was work. We had a meeting in the morning in the cashiers office. The room is too small for the number of people and with the windows closed it is entirely too hot as well. I got seriously claustrophobic and felt like crap most of the rest of the day at work. I just wanted to go home to bed or something, certainly not on a 4 hour bus ride. But, that was tempered with my desire to see Karla. So . . .
After work I walked up to Greyhound and waited for the bus. Had a sandwich and talked to this girl who looked exactly like Winona Ryder. Except she wasn't shoplifting anything. Still a boring time. On the bright side the bus got there early and left on time. I thought I had an excellent seat until this woman who made a rather ill-advised choice regarding low-rise jeans sat beside me. She didn't smell very good and invaded my space too often. I dreaded riding with her all the way to Green Bay. Sooo, in Sheboygan I asked her to move for a moment and she got off the bus, I moved over and put my bag on the seat. No more problem. All alone the rest of the ride. Had leg cramps around Oconto, but they went away. A good thing they did. Chris is no fun when he gets that crap going on.
In Marinette, K was waiting for me. Gave her a kiss on the cheek and we went to 3 Brothers for pizza. At home we tried again to watch that Angelina Jolie movie, but again it just locked up the DVD player--on Saturday we took it back, and it worked for the vid store. Funny how every other movie works fine in the DVD player except that one. Annoyingly funny. Haha.
We ate pizza and watched Legends of the Fall for awhile. I drank some more of the gallon bottle of Lambrusco from last week. I think I am the only one to drink from it so far. It has become a personal goal to finish it.
Noticed that K had bought me Mountain Dew and Orange Juice. Very thoughtful of her.'
Went to bed late.
Friday . . .
C
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