Oh, ita, I was hoping this would be a pain-free vacation for you. Nuts.

I am just totally boggled that bon bon's super and landlord and falling all over themselves to fix the CAVED IN CEILING. Madness!

At least you'll be in Jamaica, ita...?

It doesn't really make sense, as if the person who calls changes the nature of the ceiling collapse.

Clients' voices are always louder than employees'. (Which isn't to say it makes sense, just that it's not surprising.)

Good luck getting it fixed, though! I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't use my kitchen.

ita, I hope the trip improves.

bon, I've done without workable a/c (um, last year? my bills were 2x what they are now. I'm using 1/2 the power to actually keep it MUCH cooler now,) no-hot-water and bitched to heaven to get that fixed, and frankly? Go medieval on their asses. That's unliveable. When my friend's bathroom ceiling collapsed, they were there in 12 hours. And this in lazy-ass slumlord b'more.

On Dirty Sexy Money what are the chances that one of the five siblings is peter krause's sibling? This seems to be a "thing" this season...

I think flying is at risk of becoming a much more expensive proposition. I'm at the gate, and there's light and there are people, and my only available painkiller makes me bitchy. Bitchier. Whatever. And of course this is not one of the terminals that believes people should be comfy.

At least I'll have a day to recover before I see my father. I refuse to finish calculating how many days this means away from my normal support structure and the ER.

Blargh. That's too bad. Hope you get rest, and your destination puts you at ease and away from triggers.

What did I come in here for?

Oh, right, pants. I came in to see if their "super denim jeans" were available in women's, but they're not even available in men's online. So I guess I'll have to wait till tomorrow to call them and ask about it. I think the men's smallest sizing is 2" too big for me. Too bad, 'cause they're guaranteed not to rip or tear for 5 years. That would rock. Anyway, if I can't get the jeans in my size, I suppose I'll go with the aforementioned pants.

Hmph. Where is my instant gratification, internets?

Yikes, bon. Yikes, ita, too. Ugh.

I think my dopiest college class was some kind of math class for people who hated math. It was pretty sad. The Astronomy class I took was popular with the jocks, and it wasn't hard, but the prof this insane Irish genius. I'm told he opened his published papers with an invocation to the muses. He was wonderful. I think he taught that class as a lark because he also taught, y'know, actual physics-for-physicists. Actually..

Yay, I still have the final exam. We had to pick 4 of the options to do, but there's "name 30 stars and describe essential features of at least 5" and another fairly factual one about galactic features. And then there's one where you write an essay about whether evidence of alien life would cause a governmental collapse, and one asking why isn't astronomy seen as more important. And everyone had to answer the last question because he spent a whole class on that story.

I also wrote a paper for that class about how Merlin was probably an alien, and the "grail" was a transmitter he'd lost or something.

Yikes bon. I guess the upside is that at least the ceiling didn't collapse on your head.

Jesse what you loved about PD almost made me turn the TV. I was like, "They better not turn this into a goddamn musical!