Sometimes it's a madhouse.
Real life has been decidedly uncooperative. I've been working 60, 70-hour weeks for about a month. And I've been eating fast food for about as long because I'm simply not home to cook. I came home early tonight (before 7:00 p.m.) thinking I'd put some chops in the oven and actually have a meal instead of a burger and fries. But...
My fridge is kaput. I opened the door to find disaster. I threw everything out, turned off the fridge, and scrubbed. I've turned the fridge back on but I don't hear the compressor so I think it's dead. It's only four years old!
As for my fandom life, that's all but nonexistent. Why, yes, I am depressed. And crabby. And feed up, and in need of a break.
Ah, well.
I'm turning off the lights and going to bed early. Somebody call me when real life goes away.
My fridge is kaput. I opened the door to find disaster. I threw everything out, turned off the fridge, and scrubbed. I've turned the fridge back on but I don't hear the compressor so I think it's dead. It's only four years old!
As for my fandom life, that's all but nonexistent. Why, yes, I am depressed. And crabby. And feed up, and in need of a break.
Ah, well.
I'm turning off the lights and going to bed early. Somebody call me when real life goes away.