sigmastolen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sigmastolen) wrote2009-08-27 03:16 pm
sigmastolen) wrote2009-08-27 03:16 pm
In today's edition of "Stupid Things I Do" ... plus, my life.
So, I managed to... sideswipe my passenger-side mirror off. Against a concrete pillar. While backing out of my parking spot on my way to work today. Driving was weird -- apparently the passenger-side mirror isn't legally required, but being without it was a little like missing a limb. No, not a limb, exactly, but maybe like missing a finger or something. So I took surface streets and was late to work, but at least I didn't shift lanes into another car on the 405 and die or anything. I'm gonna get duct tape or something at the student store before I leave campus, and reattach it.
I figure the reason y'all put up with the amount I complain is that I tell you about the idiotic things I do and let you laugh?
Ummm, other things of maybe-relevance...
The kittens have been bathed (again, by me this time with baby shampoo), all the places they have gone have been sprayed with Flea Raid (don't worry, I kept the kittens well away from it!), I vacuumed the entire house (well not Flatmate's room but they hadn't really been in Flatmate's room anyway. She is a grown-ass woman and if she wants her room vacuumed, she can do it herself), and I did all the laundry -- some of it twice! No joke, I poured $20 in quarters into the washers and dryers in the garage. Arg. So anyway, we ought to be flea-free -- I hope to god we are -- and if we're not, I've just ordered some Advantage for the boys which should be arriving soon, and in any case I'll probably Raid-vacuum-launder the house again in a couple weeks to get rid of any eggs that may hatch in the interim. OH GOD I HATE FLEAS. THEY ARE SUCH A PAIN IN THE ASS.
And so, with all of that kitten-related housework, I have been wiped out all week. The eye tic has come back with a vengeance (granted, an intermittent vengeance, but it's annoying nonetheless). And yet, even though I'm tired, I am unable to fall asleep until probably one am at the earliest, sometimes more like two or three. And I've been waking up around seven, which is when my alarm goes off (in the hopes of me doing something productive with my morning). Sometimes I lie about for half an hour or more, which is fine, but sometimes I find myself awake at 6:30 and I can't go back to sleep. It's bullshit, I tell you. I've started running this week (this time it's going to stick, I swear. Because this time I really think I'll enjoy it once I'm good at it, you know?), and I was hoping that the physical activity would help me sleep better, but apparently not. It's helping to spur me out of bed, though, which is fine! Along with the kittens scuffling, usually on my legs or next to my head, which is also fine because they're adorable.
There have been fires in the Angeles National Forest since Tuesday, and the smoke has been mostly settling in the LA basin, which makes this a really fine time for me and my allergic, asthmatic self to start running, but if this is going to happen at all, I can't put it off "until the air is better" -- this is happening now, damn it, no cop-outs. I really want this. I'm done with being a layabout, and I'm done with not being fit. It gets me out of the house, as well. And actually, I haven't really been having problems breathing. Certainly no wheezing; some slight tightness of the chest, but it passes pretty quickly. I've also been feeling better about life and about myself this week -- be great if it holds :)
Of course, all this does not, apparently, make me any more capable of finishing scanning my fish pictures (Oh!! They came out pretty well, by the way! I'll put some up... eventually...), or uploading new kitten pictures, or writing letters to people (oops), or Dealing With the GIANT HEAP OF CLUTTER on top of my desk. It's pretty much the only place there's clutter, though, which is a plus -- I did a Big Clean in preparation for the kittens, and with all of the Kitten Issues, I've had to keep everything reasonably tidy (which really just means that the mess has grown but it is localized to the vertical space above my desk).
I can say, though, that the general trend has been for me to be more obsessively tidy. Is this the library's fault, or my brain gradually becoming more crazy, or is it a part of growing up? Though I am glad not to be a slob. It leads to a higher incidence of passive rage, though, when things in shared spaces are messy. Because my kitchen will make sense if it kills me, DAMMIT.
Oooh. I need to use that broccoli I bought on Sunday.
Speaking of the kitchen, Flatmate and I had that "You REALLY need to rinse things before you put them in the dishwasher" conversation, finally, and it was a lot less fraught than I had anticipated (I always get all worked up about what I perceive to be conflicts and they generally turn out to be painless, because I'm ridiculous). Apparently she comes from a non-rinsing family, and didn't see the need to rinse things? (I come from a rinsing family, obviously.) Anyway, I obviated (a little tensely, but calmly and politely) that need by pointing out how food residue and pieces remain on the dishes (seriously there was a bit of rice of something on top of one of the upturned glasses when she was emptying the dishwasher after I ran it twice because there was even more rice the first time), and how it takes us several days to use enough dishes to run the dishwasher and during those days the food she leaves stuck to the plates startes to make the dishwasher smell like death. She was like, "Oh! Yeah, I guess you have a point, my parents run the dishwasher pretty frequently. (facetiously) It'll be a hardship, but I... think I can manage to rinse." *snort*
Hey, why is it that when girls tell you they're drunk, they always sound... troubled, or apologetic, or distressed -- like it's a big problem that they're drunk? Not all women do this, I mean, but it's something I've noticed as exclusive to females -- I've never heard a guy whine, "I'm a little bit drunnnnnk," like it's a problem he wants you to fix. Guys usually sound more casual about it, or happy. What really amuses me are the people who tell you they're drunk like they're confiding some big secret. If you're drunk enough to be telling people you drunk and thinking that everyone can't tell, it's pretty damn obvious you're drunk. It makes me laugh.
And finally, squeaking in just minutes before the library closes, is the song I have had stuck in my head all damn day:
Violent Femmes
Blister in the Sun
When I'm a walking, I strut my stuff, then I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite, I just might, stop to check you out
Let me go on, like a blister in the sun
Let me go on, big hands I know you're the one
Body and beats, I stain my sheets, I don't even know why
My girl friend, she's at the end, she is starting to cry
Let me go on, like a blister in the sun
Let me go on, big hands I know you're the one
Whisper:
When I'm a walking, I strut my stuff, then I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite, I just might, stop to check you out
When I'm a walking, I strut my stuff, then I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite, I just might, stop to check you out
Body and beats, I stain my sheets, I don't even know why
My girl friend, she's at the end, she is starting to cry
When I'm a walking, I strut my stuff, then I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite, I just might, stop to check you out
Loud:
Let me go on, like a blister in the sun
Let me go on, big hands I know you're the one
HA HA NOW IT'S IN YOUR HEAD TOO
I figure the reason y'all put up with the amount I complain is that I tell you about the idiotic things I do and let you laugh?
Ummm, other things of maybe-relevance...
The kittens have been bathed (again, by me this time with baby shampoo), all the places they have gone have been sprayed with Flea Raid (don't worry, I kept the kittens well away from it!), I vacuumed the entire house (well not Flatmate's room but they hadn't really been in Flatmate's room anyway. She is a grown-ass woman and if she wants her room vacuumed, she can do it herself), and I did all the laundry -- some of it twice! No joke, I poured $20 in quarters into the washers and dryers in the garage. Arg. So anyway, we ought to be flea-free -- I hope to god we are -- and if we're not, I've just ordered some Advantage for the boys which should be arriving soon, and in any case I'll probably Raid-vacuum-launder the house again in a couple weeks to get rid of any eggs that may hatch in the interim. OH GOD I HATE FLEAS. THEY ARE SUCH A PAIN IN THE ASS.
And so, with all of that kitten-related housework, I have been wiped out all week. The eye tic has come back with a vengeance (granted, an intermittent vengeance, but it's annoying nonetheless). And yet, even though I'm tired, I am unable to fall asleep until probably one am at the earliest, sometimes more like two or three. And I've been waking up around seven, which is when my alarm goes off (in the hopes of me doing something productive with my morning). Sometimes I lie about for half an hour or more, which is fine, but sometimes I find myself awake at 6:30 and I can't go back to sleep. It's bullshit, I tell you. I've started running this week (this time it's going to stick, I swear. Because this time I really think I'll enjoy it once I'm good at it, you know?), and I was hoping that the physical activity would help me sleep better, but apparently not. It's helping to spur me out of bed, though, which is fine! Along with the kittens scuffling, usually on my legs or next to my head, which is also fine because they're adorable.
There have been fires in the Angeles National Forest since Tuesday, and the smoke has been mostly settling in the LA basin, which makes this a really fine time for me and my allergic, asthmatic self to start running, but if this is going to happen at all, I can't put it off "until the air is better" -- this is happening now, damn it, no cop-outs. I really want this. I'm done with being a layabout, and I'm done with not being fit. It gets me out of the house, as well. And actually, I haven't really been having problems breathing. Certainly no wheezing; some slight tightness of the chest, but it passes pretty quickly. I've also been feeling better about life and about myself this week -- be great if it holds :)
Of course, all this does not, apparently, make me any more capable of finishing scanning my fish pictures (Oh!! They came out pretty well, by the way! I'll put some up... eventually...), or uploading new kitten pictures, or writing letters to people (oops), or Dealing With the GIANT HEAP OF CLUTTER on top of my desk. It's pretty much the only place there's clutter, though, which is a plus -- I did a Big Clean in preparation for the kittens, and with all of the Kitten Issues, I've had to keep everything reasonably tidy (which really just means that the mess has grown but it is localized to the vertical space above my desk).
I can say, though, that the general trend has been for me to be more obsessively tidy. Is this the library's fault, or my brain gradually becoming more crazy, or is it a part of growing up? Though I am glad not to be a slob. It leads to a higher incidence of passive rage, though, when things in shared spaces are messy. Because my kitchen will make sense if it kills me, DAMMIT.
Oooh. I need to use that broccoli I bought on Sunday.
Speaking of the kitchen, Flatmate and I had that "You REALLY need to rinse things before you put them in the dishwasher" conversation, finally, and it was a lot less fraught than I had anticipated (I always get all worked up about what I perceive to be conflicts and they generally turn out to be painless, because I'm ridiculous). Apparently she comes from a non-rinsing family, and didn't see the need to rinse things? (I come from a rinsing family, obviously.) Anyway, I obviated (a little tensely, but calmly and politely) that need by pointing out how food residue and pieces remain on the dishes (seriously there was a bit of rice of something on top of one of the upturned glasses when she was emptying the dishwasher after I ran it twice because there was even more rice the first time), and how it takes us several days to use enough dishes to run the dishwasher and during those days the food she leaves stuck to the plates startes to make the dishwasher smell like death. She was like, "Oh! Yeah, I guess you have a point, my parents run the dishwasher pretty frequently. (facetiously) It'll be a hardship, but I... think I can manage to rinse." *snort*
Hey, why is it that when girls tell you they're drunk, they always sound... troubled, or apologetic, or distressed -- like it's a big problem that they're drunk? Not all women do this, I mean, but it's something I've noticed as exclusive to females -- I've never heard a guy whine, "I'm a little bit drunnnnnk," like it's a problem he wants you to fix. Guys usually sound more casual about it, or happy. What really amuses me are the people who tell you they're drunk like they're confiding some big secret. If you're drunk enough to be telling people you drunk and thinking that everyone can't tell, it's pretty damn obvious you're drunk. It makes me laugh.
And finally, squeaking in just minutes before the library closes, is the song I have had stuck in my head all damn day:
Violent Femmes
Blister in the Sun
When I'm a walking, I strut my stuff, then I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite, I just might, stop to check you out
Let me go on, like a blister in the sun
Let me go on, big hands I know you're the one
Body and beats, I stain my sheets, I don't even know why
My girl friend, she's at the end, she is starting to cry
Let me go on, like a blister in the sun
Let me go on, big hands I know you're the one
Whisper:
When I'm a walking, I strut my stuff, then I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite, I just might, stop to check you out
When I'm a walking, I strut my stuff, then I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite, I just might, stop to check you out
Body and beats, I stain my sheets, I don't even know why
My girl friend, she's at the end, she is starting to cry
When I'm a walking, I strut my stuff, then I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite, I just might, stop to check you out
Loud:
Let me go on, like a blister in the sun
Let me go on, big hands I know you're the one
HA HA NOW IT'S IN YOUR HEAD TOO
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