Whatever the right hand findeth to do*
...the left hand carries a watch on its wrist to show how long it takes to do it.*
I have nothing to say. I'm sorry. It's just been one of those days where you only do one activity for the whole day.
My activity? Organizing photographs. My wrist hurst like a bitch, and I should techinically work for another hour, but my eyes are going to pop out and crawl under the desk in a moment, sqealing in that obnoxiously high pitch that eyes do when clamoring for an activist to defend them from the horrible torture.
Elisa left this morning. Dim sum yesterday was delicious and filling and incredibly cheap. \o/
I'm not going to the gym today (fuck that shit) but apart from that I don't know how I'm going to celebrate the start of the weekend. I have shitty rose wine at home (I don't drink rose, but Elisa does, and we'd been planning on meeting up more often, but...yeah). I haven't watched Zachary Quinto strut his mini-eyebrows on Star Trek but the showing at the Hague is at 10 pm. (And remember, intermissions are eeeevil and therefore Leiden is not an option.)
Thought about biking to Noordwijk this weekend, which is quite trip. But I could use the exercise and people say it's a nice trip and I don't know what else to do. MIght see Willy this weekend, but that wasn't set in stone and she's really busy and there's no plans yet so shite.
Sorry for being such a boring and whiney read, but, well, life's kind of boring and whine-inducing at the moment.
In conclusion: Sad puppy is I.
Links of the Day:
riverbella reads paxlux's SPN Fanfic: At Night in the Desert, the Land Breathes and it Sounds Like Music
lucyluo's watercolours, including her future self at age 100.
heroprotagonist's Contest: Draw yourself at age 100
Jones' Celtic Encyclopedia: The Celtic Tree Calendar
* Ralph W. Sockman
I have nothing to say. I'm sorry. It's just been one of those days where you only do one activity for the whole day.
My activity? Organizing photographs. My wrist hurst like a bitch, and I should techinically work for another hour, but my eyes are going to pop out and crawl under the desk in a moment, sqealing in that obnoxiously high pitch that eyes do when clamoring for an activist to defend them from the horrible torture.
Elisa left this morning. Dim sum yesterday was delicious and filling and incredibly cheap. \o/
I'm not going to the gym today (fuck that shit) but apart from that I don't know how I'm going to celebrate the start of the weekend. I have shitty rose wine at home (I don't drink rose, but Elisa does, and we'd been planning on meeting up more often, but...yeah). I haven't watched Zachary Quinto strut his mini-eyebrows on Star Trek but the showing at the Hague is at 10 pm. (And remember, intermissions are eeeevil and therefore Leiden is not an option.)
Thought about biking to Noordwijk this weekend, which is quite trip. But I could use the exercise and people say it's a nice trip and I don't know what else to do. MIght see Willy this weekend, but that wasn't set in stone and she's really busy and there's no plans yet so shite.
Sorry for being such a boring and whiney read, but, well, life's kind of boring and whine-inducing at the moment.
In conclusion: Sad puppy is I.
Links of the Day:
riverbella reads paxlux's SPN Fanfic: At Night in the Desert, the Land Breathes and it Sounds Like Music
lucyluo's watercolours, including her future self at age 100.
heroprotagonist's Contest: Draw yourself at age 100
Jones' Celtic Encyclopedia: The Celtic Tree Calendar
* Ralph W. Sockman