Katie came by yesterday to cut my hair and listen to the message Keith left (so burbly! So full of enthusiasm! and his pa will join him soon!) so it was a brief but useful interaction. We’re obviously still pretty sore with each other, but life f*cking well goes on.
No word count yesterday; it was a disappointing day but at least Thursday’s trip to the doc reveals me as being, yet again, a dirty great hypochondriac. Honestly, sometimes I think the best thing about me breaking my shoulder was that there was no arguing about it. Everyone agreed, yup, dislocated AND broken; no hypochondria there, girl.
Third series of Sherlock so wombly and disappointing that I nearly screamed with frustration. I put my Darth Vader blankie over my head a lot. (I bought a Darth Vader blankie for 15 bucks at the Interfilk auction at Conflikt).
Jeff took me to breakfast this morning and will be heading out to work at a couple of customers later. I hope I quit coughing long enough to do something useful, like make word count, or rehearse, or do laundry.
Racism workshop two Wednesday afternoons hence at my place. It will be a corker.
I need some tea.
They just sang this in England, at the filk convention there. http://www.leafpress.ca/Mondays_Poems_2013/Chris_Hadfield/Is-Somebody-Singing.htm
Happy sigh.
