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Gearing Up

It's going to be a doozy of a day today. I may or may not make it to the rearranged freshstartwrite meeting, because, ow, stuff, time-crunch sensitive stuff. To wit:

  • Plasma
  • Pick Sis up from work
  • Keyboard
  • Shopping (assorted): (chow dze, possible replacement skirt, aforementioned keyboard, small basket for hiding of lamp replacement sticker for Tigereye, face goo (not time-critical), possibly some cat-5 (but possibly not), ... and I just forgot what the final thing I was supposed to get at Sam's was. Yaagh. Oh. Tampons. Guess what week it is?)
  • Laundry?
  • calling office at work

All that, plus enough sleep. So, oy, and yikes, and oy again.

Also, I drove Little Fayoumis to school yesterday morning because marxdarx was still crashed. (Today, I got home before "Earth and Sky" came on. Go, me.) Little Fayoumis told me that I drove like Beta, the teenage son of our family friend Clover, in The Beast (a truck). I'm not sure whether this was good or bad. (This was apropos of me taking the corner out of the apartment complex a little sharply and therefore bumpily, because there was an opening in traffic.)
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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