tiredThere are all sorts of insane bits of clutter on the top bunk. I have yet to find places for everything, and I have a feeling that things will be thrown out, recycled, consolidated, merged, filed, and otherwise made more compact and shipshape. The rest of the apartment is a disaster area too.
Telephones are plugged in and accessable. (Incidentally, I should stop using the cordless in my room for anything resembling an important call, because it will lose power partway through, because it's a cheapass phone and it's already a year or so old.)
I may actually finally have room to deploy my (recycled, as in from the recycle area by the dumpsters) coffee table. This excites me in ways that home decoration should not excite me. I do, in fact, have the exact place to put this marvel of structural engineering, and wouldn't you know -- things without proper homes (such as backpacks, flashlights, and stray markers) automatically look less like clutter when they are sitting on a bona fide coffee table. I think I even have a bottle of coffee to set there too.
I'm going to be very, very sore tomorrow, but in the good way, the way that means that I've had a good workout.
Incidentally, is it sad that at one point on a science test, I was humming that song to myself to try and remember the sun's temperature for a multiple-choice question?
