- I have two strange bug bites on right arm. I’m not sure where I acquired them, but they itch like hell and kind of swell all zit like and then weep this clear fluid for a few days. The fluid gets kind of crusty and I constantly pick it off only to have more crust appear in like an hour. It’s my new hobby. I told my niece, Jaycie, about it today and she didn’t give me quite the amount of horrified I was looking for. Internet, don’t fail me now.
- I’ve begun Tibblesitting again. Mon-Wed, 7 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. until school starts, and then once school starts it’ll be everyday from 7 until busstop. It’s nice, because it helps Sister #3 escape Nanny issues, and it helps me make some side cash while I search for new clients. Plus, I get to hang out with The Tibbs which is always great gobs of fun.
- You know what isn’t great gobs of fun? Getting up at 6:15 in the A dot M. You people who do this are like from another planet. It’s only 9:30 right now and I feel like I got hit by a bus. Also, I am going to have to start Tivoing Conan, because going to bed at 11 and reading until 12 to get up at 6:15 is exactly the kind of bullshit I cannot handle for more than a day.
- Speaking of Tivoing, I’ve set a goal to ditch Comcast, I mean Shitfinity (a.k.a Xfinity) or whatever they call themselves in September and go with Internet TV. It scares me a little because this angry hermit needs her Project Runway. I’m hoping the switch will cut down on the ridiculous amount of TV I watch and the ridiculous amount I pay for the privilege.
- Related to the last: I’m thinking of going with a Roku box since I’m already an Amazon Prime member I get a crapton of free crappy TV shows (which are my favorite kind of TV shows).
- I drove out to Wayzata today. I don’t go there very often because everything west of 494 after it turns north might as well be Mars as far as I’m concerned. It’s a kind of adorable, nestled-next-to-a-lake suburb that seems like it could have been the setting for “Dawson’s Creek.” It’s also a little bit of hell because trying to find the restaurant I was meeting potential clients at involved getting lost twice, three illegal turns, and taking it on faith that the unmarked road was not, in fact, Bloody Hook Trail, but an actual road that would take me to my destination. It did, and I was only eleven minutes late.
- Thursday is my last night of fiction class. Our assignment last week when only eight people showed up was to re-write a scene in the story we workshopped, and then we’d discuss it this week. We were supposed to email the scene on Sunday. It’s 9:48 on Monday and so far I’m the only person who sent anything out. I am currently cursing each and every one of those bastards.
- I’m watching “Sweet Home Alabama” for what is, no exaggeration, the 184th time.
- That is all.
UPDATE: Two of my classmates stepped up and handed out scenes for class today. I like to think my pissy, bratty hate vibes shamed them into submission.
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