Michelle's Journal

So I woke up this morning, and no internet. A bit concerning, but every once in a while it has to reset or something. So I unplug and replug the modem, but still nothing. I don't know about you, but to me looking at a computer without internet access is, "well, what's the point of this?"

Okay. Breathing. It'll come back, right? Besides. I'm trying to avoid spoilers anyway. And at least I'll be able to watch BSG tonight.

*turns on TV*

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

*BREATHES*

Okay okay okay. Regroup. After I take a shower it'll be back.

OR NOT. THIS IS SOME KIND OF SICK JOKE, RIGHT??

Right. I need groceries anyway. And British-type stuff from the store that carries lots. I'll do that and if it's not on when I get back, I'll call. As I was leaving, I saw the big cable company truck out on the street and a guy up on a crane. I yelled that I loved him and offered to bear his children, but don't think he heard me with the windows closed.

Anyway, I didn't get a whole lot. Some kind of small frozen meat pie, some McVitie's Digestives, crumpets and marmalade. And ivydoor, I got some Starbucks Dark Chocolate Peppermint Mochas. Do I just put vodka in it and I'm done?

Oh, for the record Weetabix looks like Brillo pads. I did not buy. And barley-based non-alcoholic drinks? What's that about?

Odds of me not completing my ficathon piece? Very very good.

Who's to blame for this? Everyone but me. Okay...me. Totally me.

I've never been one that can sit down and make myself write, and so it either happens or it doesn't.

Meh.

End, damn you! Eeeeeeeend! *cries* Why won't you end?

Last person on the planet now who hasn't watched the DW (or RH) CiN special. Shut up. I totally am. And about 3.5 hours to go yet. *throws hand across forehead*

I suppose I could write on that Nine/Rose fic (or any of the other fics-in-progress.) Or WORK. Bah.

ETA: *SIGHS*

ETA2: ( *SPAMS SELF* )

Sick. Possibly dying. Okay, maybe not. However, to the half of my flist that's sick as well, I blame you for this. Virtual cooties and stuff. *blames*

It's hard to think straight, and so apologies if I've left any weird comments today. Went back to bed at 10:30 a.m. and woke up at 2:30 p.m., during which time I dreamed that Marian had joined Sir Guy's new band of outlaws due to the better clothes. Robin didn't seem that miffed and instead went leaf collecting. (How could I make this up? How?)

I need a nap. *wanders off*

I'm home today, feeling like crap. Well, crappy enough not to go into work. The Santa Ana winds got me so that my sinuses and throat are *killing* me. Right now the humidity is 4%. BLEH.

You know what I'm kicking myself about? I didn't even *think* about my humidifier yesterday, which would have saved me the sore throat today. I've got it on now, but the damage is done. OW. I hate sore throats.

Not sure what it is, but I keep wavering between "hmph," "woe," and "RAWR, DAMMIT" today. Before work - fine. At work - rage. Hmm. Correlation?

Ooooh. You ever have someone randomly tell you, "Smile!"? My response right now would be "I WILL CUT YOU!" (Any other time it would simply be, "Heh heh. *puts person on mental shit list for all of time*," because telling someone to smile is just SO incredibly rude.)

And due to discussion with manticoran, I decided that instead of wanting a cat, I really need a grandcat. One I can pet and drive into a frenzy, and then send home. I don't remember who it was on my flist, but recently someone posted about waking up to the sound of their cat puking on their bed. It was at that point I decided I would NEVER BE GETTING A CAT.

This? My train of thought on my drive into work this morning as I slowly go mad from the heat.

( People in the Old West didn't have A/C in their cars. )

AAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! Oh my ever loving God! I need to get out of the house! NOW. However, at 6 p.m. it's still 96 out. But...I NEED TO LEAVE. It is getting desperate.

Right. Store run for fruits and veggies. If I don't make it back, I hereby bequeath all my DW posts to manticoran and all my DW crack!posts to goldy_dollar. They'll have to fight it out what qualifies as what - quite possibly it's *all* crack, but I don't care as I'll be dead. And they can redistribute the posts to others as they see fit. Again, don't care. Dead. And everything else is to be evenly divided between the Wienermenagerie, who will not want any of it but will be my final mwahaha.

ETA: I live!