To do: 1) vacuum, 2) clear history from computer, 3) candles

Not MY list, mind you...Dipshit's. The latest list to sit in clear view on his desk as I walk by. And yet again, sadly, I know him way too well...correctly guessing these 3 curious duties could only mean one thing...his bitch would be paying a visit this weekend. Cue extremely heavy sigh. I can't really complain too much, though...this is only her 2nd visit in 2 months, and is only his 3rd weekend here since Labor Day. Sure, every millisecond i'm around them will grate, but all things considered, it's been an autumn blessedly free of both of them. I just canNOT get over his to-do list, though...and how sickeningly predictable he is.

Oh, wait, then there's his Big Reveal to me that she would, indeed, be visiting...more predictability. He walks in from work and, after the knee-jerk, painful "heys," instantly asks if I saw some "story in the Post yesterday about Madonna." Um, what? Huh? WHY are you asking me this?! WHAT is your fucking point? What is the NEED for my vocal cords to be so taxed responding to this, and my eyes to be diverted from my latest organizational task to look up at you? WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! Well, i'll tell you why...it was his bizarre way of buttering me up, engaging me in light, utterly pointless chitchat...so he could "casually" inform me a minute later that the bitch would be up tomorrow. THAT'S why. UGH. I'll now carry on with my otherwise damn good Thursday...