Dishwasher is running thanks to me, tea is seeping thanks to Jeff, and I just realized that I didn’t get my goddamned bloodwork done because I was about to go in to Lifelabs and I got an email that Tom is sick and it literally (THANKS FOR NUTHIN ADD and also may I just mention that not getting a fucking email reminder of your pending requisition from the doctors office doesn’t exactly fucking help even if you don’t have ADD) knocked doing that out of my mind. So I must must do that today. Which means I have to walk over to 6th and 10th anyway, maybe I can mail the 9 page (large print) letter I wrote to Mary over the last week, and pick up a coffee for Jeff on the way back since he was hankering for one.
weather is frickin GLORIOUSÂ I mean seriously.
I have a list as long as my hair (which reminds me, I need to tie it up again or Jeff’s going to be spitting out my hairs reproachfully while watching tv as they drift over his face (sometimes he goes GAAAH and flaps his hands because it’s like having a spider web land on you and then OH THE REPROACHFUL LOOK)) and slightly more motivation than yesterday for attacking it. More laundry, working on Finale writing down songs and messing with the voicing, tidying up the music/guest room, working on a couple of new fanfics, responding to Tish’s letter, actually reading the rent increase notice and diarizing it. A small fraction of the goo sticking to me.
I have subscribed to the NYT for a year, it was 1/20th the normal price so I actually thought that was fair. Jeff, it was the article about Jared Harris that made me subscribe, I am such a celebri-fluffer.
Crows called for food this morning, but I put out sunflower seeds instead of roasted unsalted peanuts so they are sulking. (later, there they go again. It’s four-call, whoever she is)
Keith has apparently had an excellent visit with the grandparents in Victoria. I’ll be meeting up with Paul at some point today to walk and possibly visit Tom and exchange stuff, since items keep migrating between our two households.
Jeff’s car is still in the krankenhaus. The problem can’t be replicated, so we’re beginning to think it’s bad fuel.
I think I have blown through yet another set of orthotics, so that’s going on the list as well. NO DO NOT WANT. I mean I want comfy feet but I do not want to spend 400 dollars even if my fOlks are underwriting it with my remittance woman stipend.
ADD meds day two. I AM ITCHY. Is it allergies? is it medication? LOL who knows. Much imitating of the Archer character Woodhouse saying in his crackly voice, “It’s going to be an itchy weekend.”
I bought some Red Racer Street Legal Pilsner and IPA for Paul so I have something festive to drink while I’m over there. Got some for myself as well. It’s about the equivalent of a piece of bread, for carbs.
I now have a nightgown for every night of the week. And okay, enough potchkeying around on my blog, I have to go have a phlebotomist stab me, baby.