I'm sorry people are being stupid and weather is not co-operating.

The bath mat I had washed the other day disintegrated enough to clog up the washing machine drain tube, which I discovered trying to to a quick load of laundry this morning before work. I have done this before, so the actual fix was not too arduous, but it was kinda gross and then everything had to be washed again and I was trying to work fromhome at the same time and OF COURSE stuff came up that was virtually impossible to do on my little chromebook so I am going to be at the office for a very long time now that I have made it in. And I smell like bleach.

So that's my day so far. But at least now I have coffee.

t, I recently gave up and decided I was perfectly happy in hotel rooms using a towel on the floor, so why not at my own house, where I can wash it a heck of a lot easier and more frequently than the bathmat I used to have. Probably looks worse but makes my Virgo heart happier

True. I will have to remember to pick up said towel is the main challenge, or the elderly cat who has decided to retire to the bathroom will use it in preference to her litterbox (which is RIGHT THERE WHY CAT WHY?) but that is actually true of the bathmat, too. Hence the washing to disintegration.

Yes, the hotel type towel bath mats are really perfect. I should get those instead of the fall apart in the washer/dryer variety.

My customer's name is Imhotep. I keep wanting to start chanting.

I am finally caught up with almost a month of Natter. While I was at my sister's healing this ankle. Her internet connection sucks, I could barely work, and social media was too bandwidth heavy. Also I was mentally just not able to engage with much of anything. So I hibernated and buried myself in a dark hole of Politics Twitter.

Hi, Buffistas. I missed you.

meara of a month's worth of posts, apologies for whatever I left out:

I have this weird thing that drives me crazy and I would like to figure out how to stop it. When I have a definite plan later in the day, it is like I am powerless to do anything other than wait for that plan. So basically, doing something at 6 means my whole day is wasted thinking about that thing.

Sophia, I have the same problem. If I've got something, even something fun, scheduled for later in the day, the rest of the day is lost to fretting about and preparing for that thing. I don't know why.

I want Trump and his entire entourage to go to prison. Or flee to Russia and be exiled to Siberia because Putin has no use for them anymore. I don't want any of them to die. It would end their suffering too soon.

Trump didn't get desperately manic until he realized Mueller would be looking at his financial records and tax returns. He's doing the equivalent of standing on top of the buried body and screaming "don't look here! there's nothing here! nothing at all!"

Also, I am unsure whether I should throw out the pot scrubber that sprouted a tomato seedling, or just plant it somewhere.

Wow. Plant it. Also, maybe, like, throw your pot scrubbers in the washing machine?

From the accessories and fabrics, I think we're only one or two fashion seasons away from a full '80s lace-and-shoulder-pads resurgence.

I miss the 80s. "Atomic Blonde" was good but my main takeaway was, god I want all of her clothes.

I have developed a ridiculous fondness for the large floral prints that were on the black crinkle cotton or rayon skirts & dresses from the 90s.

I also love big-flowers-on-black prints. I bought some curtains like that, which my sister thought were hideous, so I let her think I returned them but I have hidden them away and will put them up sneakily sometime just to watch her reaction.

If 90s fashion is back now, in a couple years 80s fashion will be back, and by then I'll be small enough to wear all the 80s clothes hiding in the back of my closet. (Hush, let me dream.)

Envying sarameg's Alaska vacation.

Took a long time to get into work this morning. I did get to use my chainsaw though.

That's what I'm needing, a chainsaw! For work! Editor With A Chainsaw

I feel like many (most?) people secretly or not-so-secretly believe that everyone would be into whatever they're into if they had the freedom or whatever to try it

I suspect -t is right, there

Nice explanation of insurance in America, Gud! I'm going to save that and reference it a lot.

Shoot, I could use a Chore Board like Gud's and I live alone. It would help me focus on what needs to be done, instead of living as if I have house elves. Alas, I'm not good at DIY. "Making a chore chart" would just go on the to-do list and never get done.

Welcome to your new foster home, Lucky!

'I think therefore I should kill all humans'.

"My logic is undeniable."

This just made me realize I never renewed my passport.

Renew it! You never know when you'll need to flee the country. (Under Bush, that was a joke. It's feeling less jokey now.)

My cards are never declined when I travel, and yet twice in the last month, I've gotten flagged that my cards were used in Texas and Missouri. It's like they know I might be out of the country, but I ain't likely to be in a red state.

I didn't do any chores because Mother kept saying "You're not doing that right, here, let me do it."

My experience exactly, though it was more my sister and my grandmother than my mom. Mom was happy for my help with household stuff, but I had no assigned chores. I had to help with farm chores too because farm, but it was just: this has to be done, let's get to it. Household stuff was the same. I don't think my family ever thought about assigning chores.

The only thing I never did was cook or help with cooking, I was always shooed out of the way and happy to go. So now cooking is an unpleasant chore I'm no good at, and I eat out a lot.

Burning the non-food (continued...)

( continues...) garbage was a fun chore, though. Fire!

And of course the food garbage went to the pigs. Best way to compost food garbage: run it through a pig, or a goat.

We burned garbage too, we were out in the country but we didn't have any animals. I enjoyed burning day, too.

I have this bathmat. [link] Basically a tightly woven heavy towel. Little heavier than hotel ones so doesn't ruck up as easily (hi, cats!)

Y'all, I'm still agog at my coworkers who tried to get to a directory by just typing the path. And decided it was a permissions problem. Like, how do you even have this fucking job? That's some entry level knowledge right there and we've been unix/Linux for TWENTYFUCKINGYEARS. There is no excuse for this bullshit incompetence. It's passive aggressive bullshit for reasons I can't begin to fathom.