Yesterday I received one of the sweetest and most flattering compliments about my nonfiction that I have ever received. I put together words, and then someone asked me, when I copy/pasted at them in chat, whether they'd originated from a particular powerhouse of the language. No. Mine.
Magnus and the Cranky Old Geek were both ahead at work today, so they were chatting with each other about celebrity gossip. These are two manly men here, but Magnus is addicted to celebrity gossip (the subscription to People is in his wife's name, though) and has been attempting to convert Cranky Old Geek to the fold. The scraps and pieces of the conversation that I can remember aren't that spectacular, but in context I was laughing almost hard enough to fall out of my chair because of the incongruity of it all.
The weather out there is gorgeous. I had to get my blankie from my car for work, because it was chilly inside. It was chillier outside. It's warming up now that the sun's up, and it's 54°F, so it must have been colder at night. I was so very cozy in my blanket, and Cranky Old Geek envied me. The blankie has mostly stopped shedding.
I'm contemplating going for a walk in a bit, while it's still cool and beautiful.
I have given Darkside fair warning that I may be cranky tomorrow after getting my bits looked at.
