401985320984609318617834: number of ants in my cabinets upon my return home from work on friday.
401985320984609318617834: number of dead ants in my cabinets after use of AncientChineseRecipe (a.k.a. sweet relief). but don't tell the feds cause it's totally illegal. and oh! the sight of those ants falling over, all dead like (see also: asleep, belly up, bloodless, blooey, breathless, buried, cadaverous, checked out, cold, cut off, deceased, defunct, departed, done for, erased, expired, extinct, gone, inanimate, inert, kicked the bucket, late, lifeless, liquidated, mortified, no more, not existing, offed, passed away, perished, pushing up daisies, reposing, rubbed out, six feet under (hi tel! woot woot!), snuffed out, spiritless, stiff, unanimated, washed up, wasted), well all that death, it was just plain beautiful.
8: number of hours worked on saturday.
23: approximate number of times uttered the phrase, "elected the
ppo-es, dmo-ec, ebam-es, hca 500 and dca 2500 annual, with remainder redirected to payroll at a 50% reduction." with minor variations.
104: pages faxed, on fax machine from 1982. i'll let you know when i'm done.
5922356969232923993648756923847569834725693792362578: number of times per day applied lotion to horrible mess of itchy burny flesh that used to be TheUglyThing.
6: number of hours where i really was asleep, and not simply waiting for the pain to stop. because the pain. it hurts. ow.
61: number of apartments for rent in our desired area, as seen on sunday afternoon.
8: number of apartments for rent in our desired area, as seen on sunday afternoon, that are not being pimped out by the clear channel of los angeles real estate "westside rentals."
1: number of freshly broken bones (right middle toe, smashed into bed*) causing me to have to wear totally uncute shoes to work today.
35: number of minutes waited for shitty food at trendy restaurant. (steak sandwich for him, veggie wrap for her. and fyi- the veggies in question were apparently lettuce. because that's all i got for my $8.95)
15: approximate weight in pounds of fat-assed fish in trendy restaurant's koi pond. which, incidentally, was its only redeeming characteristic. unless you count all the refugee skinny faux-tanned ultrahip people in cages. oh, but wait! those were the booths! ha! i thought this was some kind of creepy museum of Here
aside: by the way, hip people... those "unisex, layered, mod-style" haircuts you've all got? freakin' mullets. you look ridiculous.
7: number of piles of pee wiped up, of which only four came from my dog. progress, pickles! gold star! (the other pee belonged to dottie, who is just learning, so is excused. the poops were hers too. those are inexcusable.)
4: number of episodes "filthy rich: cattle drive" watched on cable (cable!!!!). from which i learned: fabian is a tool and if i could find him, i have a couple of dogs who'd like to pee all over him. and we all know they would.
5: number of cuddly animals i pet sat sunday night, in the house where Boy (that sexy beast) and i made out and sat close on the couch while the furry creatures found lap room we didn't know we had.
infinity: number of times looked at Boy and thought, "we should have a house to fill with furry creatures and make out in."
2.5: number of hours uninterrupted sleep that night due to attention whoring furry creatures. dear dottie. you are small. i can fit your head in my mouth. be quiet. love, kendra.
well, that's the basics. there was also my laundry and um, vacuuming, and... dishes? it was fairly mundane.
but only after all the midget** strippers had packed up their flaming batons and gone home!
*Boy couldn't believe i had broken my toe on the bed. but then he looked at my foot (for apparently the first time ever), pointed out my "spindly little toes" and was immediately impressed by the fact that i can walk at all.
**sorry... i know it's really "little people," but that just doesn't sound as good. and you can't argue with that logic.