Grrrr pickles!!!
Jun. 18th, 2002 11:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
weaselmomAt random:
Today I hit a sparrow at about 30 mph. He bounced off my windshield, flapped around all sidegogglin', and continued on his way. I'm glad I didn't kill him, as surely it would have been unlucky, and I'm currently full up on bad luck.
Photoshop is driving S and me insane. (There are some who would say that's really more of a short putt, but they would be thwacked on the back of the head for saying it.) The last two and a half hours can be summed up thusly: When you're up to your ass in alligators, it can be difficult to remember that your original objective was to drain the swamp.
My back is still killing me. Climbing into the driver's seat is excruciating, although weirdly enough, climbing into the passenger's seat is fine. I wish S could chauffeur me everywhere for about a week. I wonder if he could get the time off work for Driving Miss WeaselMom? Conspicuously absent from this LJ is any mention of having gone to the gym in recent living memory. Curse this vertebrate existence.
I still haven't finished my book for book club, which is about 19 hours from now. To be precise, I haven't started it yet. I had darn well better finish it, because it was my recommendation -- Clive Barker's The Thief of Always. It was a tough sell to the group. I hope they like it, or I'll take it personally and burst into tears.
I am mourning the loss of the late, lamented Audiogalaxy. Fortunately I got most everything I wanted before they pulled the plug. I bought a number of CDs after downloading songs from AG, CDs that I would not have purchased without making sure I liked the music first, or that the CD contained the right version of a song.
In truth, none of this matters. Everything that truly matters now is being left unsaid. It is the way I am.
Today I hit a sparrow at about 30 mph. He bounced off my windshield, flapped around all sidegogglin', and continued on his way. I'm glad I didn't kill him, as surely it would have been unlucky, and I'm currently full up on bad luck.
Photoshop is driving S and me insane. (There are some who would say that's really more of a short putt, but they would be thwacked on the back of the head for saying it.) The last two and a half hours can be summed up thusly: When you're up to your ass in alligators, it can be difficult to remember that your original objective was to drain the swamp.
My back is still killing me. Climbing into the driver's seat is excruciating, although weirdly enough, climbing into the passenger's seat is fine. I wish S could chauffeur me everywhere for about a week. I wonder if he could get the time off work for Driving Miss WeaselMom? Conspicuously absent from this LJ is any mention of having gone to the gym in recent living memory. Curse this vertebrate existence.
I still haven't finished my book for book club, which is about 19 hours from now. To be precise, I haven't started it yet. I had darn well better finish it, because it was my recommendation -- Clive Barker's The Thief of Always. It was a tough sell to the group. I hope they like it, or I'll take it personally and burst into tears.
I am mourning the loss of the late, lamented Audiogalaxy. Fortunately I got most everything I wanted before they pulled the plug. I bought a number of CDs after downloading songs from AG, CDs that I would not have purchased without making sure I liked the music first, or that the CD contained the right version of a song.
In truth, none of this matters. Everything that truly matters now is being left unsaid. It is the way I am.
