I have happy memories of hatching chicks at school. Good fun for Ryan.
I mostly did house work today, like shopping and sweeping and watering and LAUNDRY. Oy! Luckily there was a bit of napping in there too.
'Hell Bound'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I have happy memories of hatching chicks at school. Good fun for Ryan.
I mostly did house work today, like shopping and sweeping and watering and LAUNDRY. Oy! Luckily there was a bit of napping in there too.
I have happy memories of hatching chicks at school. Good fun for Ryan.
I think so. He's already practising how to pat them. "Like this: t stroke stroke Not like this! t thump thump thump "
Don't listen to the brainweasels.
This is utterly brilliant advice.
So much ~ma to Teppy and Aims.
I am watching "Einstein and Eddington" instead of packing. Spoons. My kingdom for more spoons. But how can I pack, when the Good Doctor is playing a different character, and looking so cute doing so. I think he might be cuter with the short hair.
I can't sleep. Too much stuff in my brain, and too much caffeine today. (I usually don't have any caffeine, but I was exhausted today, so I had a soda at lunch so that I could stay awake through my afternoon class. I now remember why I don't usually have caffeine.)
Insomnia, not just for Hil. Ha. um. Yeah. not funny. Must be the lack of sleep... or anxiety about the move... or... bygons.
Anyhow. I came to a brilliant realization just now. That I have an AMAZING skill. One that I have honed over the years, and REALLY excel at it. But it's a brilliant skill I can never brag about in an interview or resume. Which is just bloody unfair, I say. I mean. Seriously. I am REALLY good at procrastination!
:: Kermit arms flail ::
OK, another 2 boxes packed. Really starting to get down to the minutia, and the kitchen. Now, if I can only figure out WHEN I can move, and I will have a LOT less anxiety. You'd think my brain, being the educated grey lump that it is, would realize, I have an 8:30am appointment with the construction folks in a few hours, and they will hopefully give me that answer. And thus, being the wise brain, would allow me to go to sleep. Alas, that Mel Brooks song keeps singing in my song: [link]
I weeded my garden! After I called smonster, I was tempted to go back to sleep, but the cats noticed I was awake and so began to whine, then I remembered I hadn't taken out the garbage bin, so I went to do that, and fed the cats, and fed the porch cat, and as I passed the patio, I saw the bags of mulch that have been there for, oh, months now, and the sight of them offended me, and unaccountably I decided to spread them on the garden at the side of the house where they're meant to go. This is involved pulling out all the weeds and mint and wild onions that grew there since the last time I cared. So! Weeding, mulching, sweating my face off. All before work. Before breakfast, even.
Behold my run-on sentence and sentence fragments, ye editors, and despair.
Steph, I hope at least, the meds knocked you unconscious enough to get a good night's sleep (but not more).
Go, Zenkitty!
go zenkitty.
somehow going on vaction and getting ready for vaction is extra hard when I need more sleep. My body didn't sleep friday or sat urday when it could . Now it will sleep but it won't wake up
coffeee