As some of you may know, I am home alone this weekend, because Chris is at a conference-thing in Reno. Well, Thursday morning to Saturday night, not exactly the weekend. But this means that I am moping about without my Love. I should be potting plants and getting air and sunshine, but I'm potting around online, instead.
This also means:
(a) I cannot get to the Midnight Ball at Borders (oh, you know I would have been there).
(b) Consequently, I have to wait to get my HP 7.0 until Saturday morning when I can catch the bus or bike over there, meaning like 20 more hours of waiting.
(c) Furthermore, I'm going to have to read like hell to finish it before Chris gets home, because I'm not going to be able to put it down and I'm not going to want to put him down when I haven't seen him in three days, and this presents a conflict.
(d) I'm finally, finally reading a little Online Fiction again (if you know what I mean, wink wink, nudge nudge)
(e) I've watched more bad TV in a night than I usually do in a month.
(f) I'm not behaving like a rational human being in general. Forgetting to eat/sleep/wash/etc, keeping odd hours, and so on.
(g) And last but certainly not least, it means that (in the immortal words of M.C.A.), it's time to get nice. In my time-honored tradition of dealing relatively unhappily, unintelligently, and harmlessly with our brief separations, I am hoping to be utterly potted within the next few hours.
Now, before I check out to hide from potential unintentional spoilers online, some brief announcements:
- Food is good for you.
- Mint, in baking, can hide a variety of sins.
- My laptop's hinges are about to break. I can FEEL IT. So stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of "My Six-Year Old Overused Laptop."
- My Chris gets killed off in the last HP book.
- During his trip, however, he has not yet shot a man, just to watch him die. (Corollary: When he hears that lonesome whistle, he does not hang his head and cry.)
- One of the main offices of the group I work for is in Santiago, Chile--and I am reading a story by someone in Santiago Chile. Coincidence??!?! (Experts agree: yes.)
- I am currently, inexplicably wishing I had non-metallic, very saturated, bubble-gum pink nailpolish. Experts are baffled.
And this just in: the bed's too big without you.