quester, glad to know I'm not the only one (and not the only one to find it amusing.)

I always managed to put my keys somewhere not usual when the next time I leave, I have to leave at a certain time. Never fails.

It all ties into why I'm one of those people who has to unpack immediately and am one who arranges furniture one way (the Right Way) at the getgo and never changes it (as I've acquired furniture, it finds its Rightful Place. And stays there. I've been in this apartment 8 years. Never rearranged.) A lot of my friends laugh at me, but the routine, the sameness works for me. There are arrangements that are sub-ideal now, but shit would get even more chaotic were I to change things around.

Hell, even my disaster of a desk at work is in a certain order. An order of piles.

I realize this makes me a little whacky.

A moment of silence for the end of Kat's break...

[...]

The gland is owie, but moreso FUCKED UP. The swelling is shrinking more and more, down to the little knot that is my presumably whitecell (?) filled pissed off gland. Last time I could feel them this hard, it was all of them and I had a entry-level-antibiotic-resistant strep left untreated for 5 days. And yet now? Nothing else is reacting.

(yes, I'm obsessing. I hate being weird unidentifiable sick. I figure whining is safer than googling.)

I realize this makes me a little whacky.

whacky works!

The sister I just stayed with up in Iowa, is coming to town over the long weekend for some kind of work-related conference. If she doesn't like the person she's coming with, she will stay with me. I realized that I didn't have enough linens for 2 people so I went to Bed, Bath & Beyond. I went a little crazy. $250 worth of crazy.

It's all the Buffistas' fault. I had to buy beech sheets and a beech blanket {that looks funny!} and a bunch or other stuff.

I had to buy beech sheets and a beech blanket {that looks funny!} and a bunch or other stuff.

I was just talking about these! I still haven't bought any, because I do have enough linens right now (and I'm trying to get rid of one of my beds), but sometimes I think wistfully of the beech.

whining is ALWAYS safer than googling.

Tomorrow we are going kayaking. My last day of fun.

I have 300+ pages of The Historian and I should, you know, write lesson plans.

Have I mentioned uninspired?

My new classroom doesn't have tables and chairs; it only has desks. This makes me undeniably sad.

I realize this makes me a little whacky.

No wackier than me. I hate it when people move my piles. And why I'm a great respecter of other people's. And I'm all down with supergluing the furniture in place. It's my secret defense to being blind as a bat without glasses. I count steps. You move my furniture, you fuck with my escape plan.

whining is ALWAYS safer than googling.

Tomorrow we are going kayaking. My last day of fun.

I have 300+ pages of The Historian and I should, you know, write lesson plans.

Have I mentioned uninspired?

My new classroom doesn't have tables and chairs; it only has desks. This makes me undeniably sad.

Unnf. And I need to work out how to rearrange my living room to fit the cuddle lounge in it as well as the stupid bed.

I don't rearrange, mostly. I try to avoid buying furniture too.

cuddle lounge

What is it? Sounds like something that belongs in a boudoir.

I need to organize my guest bedroom this weekend.

Blech.