If I had one of those 'real job' thingies, I'd have no reason to have a grandMA in the house.


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Sometimes the concept of a 'real job' or 'day job' seems all too appealing to me. Send help.

I bet the professional data-retrieval guys don't have to deal with cats licking the hard drives they're supposed to save.

But what do they know about MY GRITTY REAL WORLD, those clean room pansies?

So my hard drive failed the other day, and rendered the whole fucking computer unusable until i figured out what had happened and disconnected it. I stuck it in the freezer for a while, since that's supposed to help revive the damn things long enough to get data off 'em, but no go.

This unhappies me. Back in the freezer with you, accursed Maxtor!

It's amazing how quickly hopping on the bike reverts me to a relatively sane state. I've been getting crazyheaded lately, but a few hours on the fire roads at briones did wonders for me.

( You can't see how insanely hot it was, but.. )

My cat is a jerk.

That is all.

Woke up around nineish, after the skylight-induced false start at around 6am. Wandered downstairs, made some coffee, cooked some breakfast, devoured it in my underwear. (Not by the window, though.) Lazed around for a bit, listened to some music, read a cranky couple's descriptions of serial killers and mass murderers ( Read more... )

So for the past four or five years, I've made a point of not having coffee or coffee-making tools in the house. I figured it was too dangerous, what with the danger of never leaving the house and the danger of never sleeping again ( Read more... )

Too sneezy. Fleeing scene. Napping.

Major allergies and major housecleaning don't agree. Especially when the housecleaning includes years worth of dust and cat venom. I guess it could be worse, though. I could be receiving mild electric shocks every few minutes or something.