it is noon and i should be asleep.

[sigmastolen]

Dear Sirs,
I would like to submit for your consideration the possibility that, if one is incapable of wiping up one's own spills in the kitchen, one cannot with any credibility call oneself a "grown-ass woman."

srsly i don't know what it was but it was congealed and it went all the way back to where she keeps her vitamins against the wall and it came up into little squishy strings and balls when i tried to wipe it up. disgusting.

In other news, still sick. Staying home from work and class, but I'll go to orchestra rehearsal because there's today and a short Mozart wind sectional tomorrow (OMG SOPHOMORE FLUTE FAILS AT COUNTING. FAILY FAIL FAIL. I DON'T KNOW WHY SHE'S ON THIS PIECE BECAUSE THE FLUTE SECTION FOR IT IS JUST HER AND SHE IS FAIL) and the day after that is the dress and the concert, so I have to be there. Even though just walking across the alley to the post office (to pay my electricity bill -- significantly more than the gas bill) made me want to take a nap. Here's hoping I can (a) survive the uphill trek from my parking lot to the music building and (b) fumble my way through rehearsal without incurring the conductor's wrath.

Also: Flatmate's chicken soup is uncharacteristically and disappointingly bland. Vastly improved with liberal amounts of salt. :c Still, v. kind of her to take pity on my pathetically ill self and share. More happily, Saturday's pumpkin mush is delicious :)