Winter Showers

I hung pictures around my desk. We've lived in this apartment for almost two years, and I decided yesterday was the day. It all looks so fancy, so lived in. I'm afraid to touch anything.

I miss my feral bachelerhood. It's loads easier to roll around in one's own filth than to take up arms against the kibble.

7 episodes of Farscape yesterday... I know I've mentioned it before, but with all my Farscape love we've never managed to reach the finish line. Various catastrophes and rampant procrastination are responsible. You see, I just don't want it to end -- not if it means there isn't anything to replace it but repeats. So I bit the proverbial bullet and bought the last two seasons on DVD. I sat my ass down, pressed play, and now there are only 12 hours between me and a sea of bad television. I'm on my raft and it's about to pop.

Speaking of rafts, I may have convinced BF to abandon World of Warcraft long enough to see "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou." And then I've pencilled in an hour or so where I can watch the rain and feel sorry for myself. These two weeks of freedom (minus the blood letting and urgent care visit) were... needed. (I tried lots of words there -- like Mad-Libs -- to see which fit best. "Needed" tasted right.)

Back to the grind... and regularly scheduled personal hygiene upkeep.