At the end of the evening...
We have, now:
- One Lunatic, still ill, but far less congested thanks to the good offices of a shower, some decongestants, a cup of salt water, and a funnel
- One under-desk space, which is hellaciously much cleaner than it had been
- Several binders with filtered contents
- A diminished pile on the shelf by the door
- Two grocery bags full of papers and crap thrown out, and a third 3/4 of the way full and still not thrown out yet
- One cat, annoyed that she's locked in the room for the night
- One "Wings Day" not participated in because I haven't any wings yet
- Two pens, found
- One pink fairy bag full of equipment for
phoenixglambomb - One installation of Winamp playing perky techno
- Countless instances of nostalgia over some pretty funky stuff
- One case of the [haven't seen] Darkside [in nearly five months] Blues
- A formerly half-full single-serving bottle of blackberry wine cooler in the trash can
- The case of "I wouldn't eat that if I were you" (brought to me by the wrong combination of weird food items on a near-empty stomach) and the resulting follow-up case of "I told you so!" (brought to me by the rest of the digestive system) winding down for the night
- A binder now labeled "TFM", with plenty of plastic pockets to store the documentation on all the instances of consumer electronics and other things that come with TFM in the household
- The Lunatic's total exhaustion