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Saturday!

This is a very happy-looking snake, and a not-so-happy-looking Draco.

zomg gorgeous.

Today:
Morning: intensive cleaning of cupboards. Haul massive fucktons of things to trash, including unpacking more books for the sole purpose of having boxes to shove some of the expired stuff in. Painting is hung. (Well-hung?) Teenage pigeons on roof next door are noisy. Threaten to obtain BB gun and skill with same for the purpose of popping the birds in the tailfeathers. Get deterred in this noble pursuit by roommates, who seem to think that this is not as noble a pursuit as I seem to think it is.
Afternoon: zomg shopping. Bed, Bath, & Beyond: looking at curtains. Looking at kitchenwares. (Looking at fluffy little throw pillows and contemplating converting my room into a Lair Suitable for a Teenage Princess, which I still bear traces of being in my heart of hearts.) LUNCH, and you always actually want to get the fish and chips, Myrrh. Best Buy in the MALL OF DOOM, where I succeeded at finding cable without having to reroll, and we priced flatscreen TVs. Myrrh made the (unwise?) plot to return post-Christmas. Tuesday Morning: more looking at curtains, looking at furniture, looking at fragile glassware that I could break just by looking at. Lunatic reaches end of shopping tolerance for the day.
Late afternoon: Lee Lee's. Near-complete meltdown in public as seating wasn't where I thought it would be after my shopping tolerance for the day was exceeded. Excessive extended angst buffered very nicely against by the good offices of St. John's Wort (because a scene like that would otherwise be guaranteed to spin me down into a depressive cycle hinging upon 'I am made of fail'). (Although -- I could hear the depression banging on the door, and I wasn't really trying to roll any saves against it. It was a purely chemical intervention there, and one for which I am profoundly grateful. And the chemical assist made it possible for me to not actively make it worse. Previously, un-medicated or insufficiently medicated, I would not only attend the pity party my brain decided to throw for me, but I would bring potluck dishes, order out for more when those proved to be a hit, and then overstay my welcome so my brain couldn't start washing dishes and taking out the trash.)
Evening: home. yay. Confirm that ants do seem to be residing in the freezer door inside the crevices provided for the water/ice mechanism. *shudder* *HATE* Try to read backlogged email. Fail. Read a lot of it anyway, and delete the immediately irrelevant ones.
Late evening: Darkside answered his phone, yay. College, busting myths, permanence, Grandma (and thank you, you guys, for keeping our family in your thoughts while this is going on -- I appreciate it), and his damn cellphone caller(s). I mentioned the silent ring idea, and the IVR idea, and a few other ones. He's going to give his phone company a call if this goes on, because hot DAMN it's not a great idea. The one with what seems to be a misprogrammed voicemail key is obviously so, because their phone number is literally one digit off of his. *headdesk*
Later evening: shower, check in with IRC and poke at google maps, call Dawn to let her know that we were barking up the right tree, just a little further up than he's climbing, poking at LJ and recording my day, and now bed.

When I upgrade from the current headset, I am planning to take the current headset and embed it in an outsourced faux banana.
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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