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Public Service Announcement
This month's topic for Storyteller is up! Go forth and write. You have no excuse now that NaNoWriMo is over.
Momentary Thought
It takes a special kind of demon from hell to be an auditor. My apologies to any auditor-readers out there, who, by nature of being readers of ~Snerkology~, therefore cannot be from hell. There are exceptions to every rule.
High/Low
High: At some point, this day, and this week, will end.
Low: It's raining today, and I didn't get to lay around in bed and enjoy it.
Current Obsession
Zero audit findings!
Grin Source
I'm just happy that Shelley updated.
Singing
See entry title...
A Year Ago
More or less
Coincidentally, I had brain block then, too.
Storyteller
Bio
Dramatis Personnae
Who I Read
Recipes
"Now that's an entry title right there."
Voila. An entry is born.
********************
Being audited gives me a peculiar flight desire. Somewhat in the jumping-headlong-off-a-building category, but more along the lines of just wanting to get the hell outta Dodge.
"There's Trouble. In Capitol City. That starts with T and that rhymes with D and that stands for DOOMED."
To paraphrase The Music Man.
To make matters worse, I then go and read Viv's entry, in a rare moment during which I can take measures to retain my sanity, about how they're ("they" being she and Parsifal) trying to find a house sitter because they're travelling abroad for a month (France. Italy. I may cry.). My entire being vibrated with the wholehearted wish that I was planning such a trip myself. How exciting it would be...
...and I refuse to think about it any further because I just might have a nervous breakdown. Woe. Woe is me. I'm just sayin'.
And doesn't the very phrase "travelling abroad" thrill you down to your very toes?
********************
So I've been trying (did try, all weekend, and am continuing to try in the few brief moments in the morning before work and in the evening before bed that are available to me) to download the entire audio book of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy". I've got all but Chapters 9 and 28 of the 35 (plus the prologue!) chapters, and finding those last two has become an obsession. TWO LEFT. And I can't. find. them. anywhere. So. If any of you have THHGTTG in audio format (in CD, or e-mailable), and you have those two chapters, or if you happen to be perusing Morpheus or some similar file sharing program, and you come across them (how's this for a run-on sentence?) would you drop me a line so I can beg and grovel as appropriate? PRETTY PLEASE??? Thank you. Thankyouverymuch.
That was my Elvis impersonation right there. Did you catch it?
********************
In another sanity-preserving tactic, I've adopted the habit of walking across the courtyard between buildings to get to meetings I need to get to, instead of sticking to the indoor corridors. I guess this is a vague attempt to remind myself that there *is* air beyond AcronymCo re-circulated, and a sky *does* exist beyond acoustic ceiling panels. It's a helpful, if brief, respite during my day.
However, this plan sometimes backfires on me. Case in point, a gentleman I observed smoking at one of the seating areas. He was leaning forward, elbows on the table, and there was a good three feet of separation between the waist of his pants and the bottom of his shirt. Acres upon acres of buttcrack, for all the world to see.
Dude, crack kills, okay? Can't you feel the breeze wafting across your bare butt? *Why* do large men insist on wearing pants whose waists only fit the region somewhere around their knees? Why do they believe they can defy gravity and keep their waistline in proper positioning, despite the fact that their *actual* waistline is a foot to the north of where they insist on belting their clothing? Do they really think they're fooling anyone into thinking their waistline is as slim as it was in highschool? Just bite the bullet and buy bigger pants.
Day-amn.