Something at Buzzfeed, I bet.

I always thought working for the Weekly World News would be a hoot. Story meetings must be nuts.

I am dissatisfied with life and wish to indulge in pointless retail therapy, except it would be pointless.

My recent bout of pointless retail therapy has been pretty awesome, actually. A (good!) replica of the ankh from The Hunger, pointy pointy goth boots, and a sparkly cravat. Oh, and super-glittery eye shadow, because I'm coping with the looming apocalypse through ridiculous makeup.

I always thought working for the Weekly World News would be a hoot.

That was my dream job in high school. I had a notebook of possible article headlines.

Roy Dotrice has died at 94. [link] Among loads of other things, he played Wesley's father on Angel.

This meeting is agonizing. How can a group of communicators be so bad at meetings? The person who's running the meeting has an echo on her mic, so she had to move to someone else's desk. She doesn't know how to use the software, so we have to sit here and listen to her fumble. People constantly forget to take themselves off mute. It makes me homicidal to get up at 7 for this every two weeks.

Strange men stomping around my roof really freak out my cats. Loki is hiding under a chair.

Loki still under a chair. They're gone. Pumpkin investigated, then took a nap, then tried to steal my cheese and crackers.

My mother stayed in my spare bedroom last night, as she has friends in from out of town, and poor Buddy was on edge all night. At least, I'm going to blame that for how badly I slept.

I love vote by mail. Got my ballot yesterday, filled it out, mailed it out today. I enjoy voting in my underwear. Now if there was only an app I could activate that would erase all the political ads and signage and mailings from my life now.

Everyone would vote so early if they could opt out of political ads by doing so.

{{Jesse}}

I am all at sixes and sevens and no end in sight for that. Just not on top of anything. Perhaps chaos is my natural habitat.