Some dude on a train asked me to send a text for him. I was dubious, but I did. Because I watch too many procedurals, I'm now wondering how bad it would look if this dude were involved in a crime of some kind, and I leave town the next day.
It's possible that I'm wondering these things because I just ate a cupcake on an empty stomach and I'm experiencing a sugar rush.
I just watched some serial killer show while eating dinner, and was really glad I finished before watching Bones.
Sara, just be careful not to pack too much, too soon.
Pirate utopias are pretty fascinating, actually. Recruitment was not that uncommon.
"So...you can plunder, and you can swab, but what we really need is a fifth man for our basketball team. Can you guard a forward with a pegleg?"
managed to impale my finger with a splinter of fiberglass. Felt the prick, looked at my hand, saw two splinters sticking out on either side of the middle of my pinky. "Oh!" Still doesn't hurt as bad as all the little stabs from rose thorns. Or the arthritis.
I've got a ways to go before I can't find crucial shit. I'm not to the point of living out of a suitcase yet. Haven't touched the bathroom or clothes yet. And all I need in the kitchen now is a plate, some forks, a knife, spoon, a cup and mug, teapot, coffee cone, big salad bowl and catfood dishes.
My phone is ringing off the hook. Guess the neighbors are seeing all the boxes and think I'm going to sneak out in the middle of the night (in a snowstorm!- who gets the reference? ) without telling them.
I really should not be allowed out of bed. Burned my hand making dinner tonight. This can stop. NOW.
I FOUND THE BRACKET! On the couch, in the cats' throw.
(also, if anyone gets the reference, it is even more appropriate when you consider I am moving to just above the old Memorial Stadium site.)
God is telling you to move, and reassuring you that it's alright by sending you that repairman....
Hee. God overran the pink house with rodents, cut the power, and nearly set the place on fire to get us to move with impunity. Then he was all, "'Bout time, punk!" and caved in the ceiling after we'd left for good measure, in case we came back.
But we're really really happy here in our new house now. IJS.
And Suzi, what did we say about the bubble wrap?!?