How Many Of 'Em Can We Make Die?
At about 5:15 AM, my phone rang. It was a cell phone in Virginia, but no one responded to my half-sleepy, half-panicked "Hello?" I suspect it was my dear friend Robocall trying to remind me to vote. Curse of the gods on the owner of said cell phone. Seriously.
The cat is staring at me. He says, "You have not fed me. Why is this? You are awake. I am here. Food's in the kitchen. What, precisely, is the problem? Can't you see that I am wasting away? I must be only fifteen pounds now!"
I am wired to a small box that made sleeping damned uncomfortable. The nice man who plugged me into it said, adorably, that I could unstrap it from my waist to sleep. Problem is, my mother once said that sleeping in the same bed with me was like sleeping with a sack of angry snakes. I would have ended up with the wires wrapped around my throat. The good news, however, is that I get it off in just a few hours, after which I will either vote or go to school, depending on lines at the polls. I don't want to wait until after school, but I have to be in class today, so I may not have a choice. Ah, well. We shall see.
NaNoWriMo is going very poorly. It's all King Lear's fault. As a result, I pretty much called him a whiny baby in my paper. I have no idea how the professor is going to take that one.
The cat is staring at me. He says, "You have not fed me. Why is this? You are awake. I am here. Food's in the kitchen. What, precisely, is the problem? Can't you see that I am wasting away? I must be only fifteen pounds now!"
I am wired to a small box that made sleeping damned uncomfortable. The nice man who plugged me into it said, adorably, that I could unstrap it from my waist to sleep. Problem is, my mother once said that sleeping in the same bed with me was like sleeping with a sack of angry snakes. I would have ended up with the wires wrapped around my throat. The good news, however, is that I get it off in just a few hours, after which I will either vote or go to school, depending on lines at the polls. I don't want to wait until after school, but I have to be in class today, so I may not have a choice. Ah, well. We shall see.
NaNoWriMo is going very poorly. It's all King Lear's fault. As a result, I pretty much called him a whiny baby in my paper. I have no idea how the professor is going to take that one.