Bleh. Just bleh.
Mar. 21st, 2011 05:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogI should be happy, First Day of Spring and all yesterday, but it somehow just isn't happening. Having the bottom drop out of the thermometer, round about this time yesterday, certainly contributed; Eleanor and I had our first dinner (and an om nom one at that) of the season in the greenhouse last night, but by the time we got out there, she was in a parka and it wasn't the moment of seasonal vindication I'd have liked it to be.
Then last night was less than stellar on both ends of the sleep cycle; Eleanor with wakey-wakeys, me with a bushel-basket of weird dreams that was hard to shake.
Work was nasty, brutish but at least short. The work mail brought exactly one of, and the smallest of, the four incoming checks I've been expecting to get significant shit paid by month-end; meanwhile, the home mail just now brought a bill for the first payment on Emily's parent loan that is supposed to be in deferment, and a 10 percent upcharge from our snowplow contractor on account of the annual total having gone over 100 inches. We've only had THAT happen once or twice in all the years with this service, and I liken it to the old Chinese Communist party practice of sending a bill to the deceased's family for the cost of the bullet when they execute by firing squad.
Speaking of premature death: you may have briefly seen a filk-version of that hideous Friday, Friday song, before I took it private after deciding it was just a little TOO mean-spirited. After the way this day has gone, I may yet reopen the gates on that. (At least one of you who's feeling equally homicidal today will get an email copy of it;)
About the only good things were (a) at least getting one regular cardio session in and (b) coming close to finishing reading my 12th book of the year. Even that, though, was less than stellar; Jonathan Franzen's one of those Oprah-approved New Yorker authors who everybody thinks is way hotter shit than I find him to be; he writes beautifully, but has now yet to give me a single redeeming character in over 1,000 printed pages of The Corrections and, now, Freedom for me to really LIKE while reading about him/her/them. I regard it as a pulp-filled swallow of castor oil, which I finished because it was good for me.Now off for my weekly lower-body workout; if it approaches last Monday's, I'll be walking around for four days with legs feeling like they're made of cooked spaghetti.
ETAAnnnnnd.... the perfect ending to the perfect day; got to my class and found a gym bag with two sweaters and no shorts. Preferring not to test the waters of fashion statements, I headed home to eat. And, yes, drink.
In fact,.... fuggit. Here, have some 'Friday' filk. I just reopened the entry.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-03-21 09:41 pm (UTC)My snow guy bills by the storm. On the bright side, it keeps herself happy - she has this idea that I'm going to keel over into a snowbank clutching my chest.
no subject
Date: 2011-03-21 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-22 12:54 am (UTC)I heard a smidgen of that Friday song on XM Radio. I don't know what the deal is with it? Supposedly the worst song ever or something?
no subject
Date: 2011-03-22 01:01 am (UTC)And, yeah. The Dylan version of the song remains my favorite:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=9FISHEO3gsM
no subject
Date: 2011-03-22 01:02 am (UTC)Yesterday was Thursday. Today is Friday. Tomorrow is Saturday. And Sunday evidently comes after Saturday. Woah! Who knew!!!
no subject
Date: 2011-03-22 01:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-22 04:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-22 04:47 am (UTC)http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/7865197-west-of-here
Swamplandia also sounds intriguing, for the gator-wrestling aspect. :)
no subject
Date: 2011-03-22 05:08 am (UTC)To counteract, some good news.