|Hope you brought the cheese to go with my whine
||[Feb. 28th, 2012|08:37 pm]
So much behindedness that I'm almost caught up to myself from the other direction.
Stuff I've learned recently:
- Do not play the laser pointer game with the dog unless you want to play the laser pointer game with the dog repeatedly, forever
- The slot on the paper shredder bin at work is exactly 1/16th of an inch wider than my blackberry
- I am far, far too lazy to have polished nails
- If you click the icon that disconnects your blackberry from its network, you don't get emails on your blackberry
- If you call the help desk because you aren't getting emails on your blackberry, and it turns out you've clicked the icon that disconnects your blackberry from its network, they are very nice about it and don't laugh at you even though they want to
- I'm probably not smart enough to have a blackberry
- Nothing makes me lose faith in humanity faster than a garage sale
I will be glad when winter is over and the Heinous Yankee Pollen stops blowing my way. I am so done with the sore throat and itchy eyes and balloon head it's not even funny. Come to think of it, it wasn't funny even before I was done with it. I have so much to do but I don't want to do any of it because I'd rather just curl up on the couch and feel sorry for my sorry self. You may commence with the soothing platitudes now.
You know that thing that happens when you're halfway through a project and suddenly get the feeling that you're doing it all exactly wrong? Yeah, that.
Also, I am so behind schedule with my spotted hound project, I'm thinking it will be April before I can launch. I set a goal of doing at least one steampunky/spottedhoundy thing per day, and I've met that goal, but I apparently had the bar set too low. I think I need a goal of about a bazilliondy twelve things per day to stay on track.
And am I the only one who thought the Oscars were a bit of a snooze this year? I mean, they were pleasant enough, but there wasn't much going on. The dresses weren't even worth mocking, except for Emma Stone's, which made her look like a stiltwalker with a goiter. Even Meryl Streep looked almost presentable, like she actually remembered that she was going to the Oscars and not rib night at Cracker Barrel.
See why I'm not posting? I'm just a big lump of grump.