laundry list
Ugh, I'm so irritated. Just in general. But because "general" is not satisfying, some of the things that are making me cranky today:
- The universe trying to spoil me for Project Runway. NO. We've only just had the Levis challenge on the station that I get, which means we're like eight episodes behind, and I already have been spoiled for two of the finalists (once by someone on my friends list - under a cut, but unmarked - and once in an entirely unrelated article about ANTM). Knock it off, universe, I WILL NOT BE SPOILED.
- Winter. GO AWAY. I don't care if spring doesn't officially start for another two weeks, I want it NOW. The Weather Channel keeps giving me pollen forecasts for British Columbia, so apologies to the B.C. folks who may be reading this, but I'm mad at you, too. And also New York, who sent us the most recent round of snow/freezing rain/ice pellets. SPRING. NOW. PLEASE.
- The book that I am currently reading, which is NOT GOOD, despite all of the enthusiastic gushing the Chapters cashier spouted at me when I bought it. It's all one-dimensional characters and stupid, stupid fantasy names, and I'm only like 100 pages into it and I just hate it so much. I don't like to give up on books, but I might do it anyway. (See also: Melusine.) Why won't the authors who've left me hanging in the middle of their unfinished series' give me new books now?
- The continued failure of my apartment to clean itself while I am at work. Come on!
- The continued propensity of my body to gain weight if I insist on feeding it nothing but chocolate and cheese and bread. It's just not fair! Also, whose the hell idea was PMS? Or menstruation at all, really?
- My socks, which keep sliding down. I'm not OCD about many things, but socks are one. When I pull my socks up, I expect them to stay there for more than fifteen seconds. It really, seriously drives me nuts to have slidey socks. And it's not like my calves are too skinny to hold them up, either, they're just incompetent socks. *fist of rage*
- My job, my total lack of independent wealth, and basically every other thing in the world that isn't babies or animals. Argh!
And that's enough of that pettiness, I think. By way of apology, how about some pictures of fuzzy babies?
- The universe trying to spoil me for Project Runway. NO. We've only just had the Levis challenge on the station that I get, which means we're like eight episodes behind, and I already have been spoiled for two of the finalists (once by someone on my friends list - under a cut, but unmarked - and once in an entirely unrelated article about ANTM). Knock it off, universe, I WILL NOT BE SPOILED.
- Winter. GO AWAY. I don't care if spring doesn't officially start for another two weeks, I want it NOW. The Weather Channel keeps giving me pollen forecasts for British Columbia, so apologies to the B.C. folks who may be reading this, but I'm mad at you, too. And also New York, who sent us the most recent round of snow/freezing rain/ice pellets. SPRING. NOW. PLEASE.
- The book that I am currently reading, which is NOT GOOD, despite all of the enthusiastic gushing the Chapters cashier spouted at me when I bought it. It's all one-dimensional characters and stupid, stupid fantasy names, and I'm only like 100 pages into it and I just hate it so much. I don't like to give up on books, but I might do it anyway. (See also: Melusine.) Why won't the authors who've left me hanging in the middle of their unfinished series' give me new books now?
- The continued failure of my apartment to clean itself while I am at work. Come on!
- The continued propensity of my body to gain weight if I insist on feeding it nothing but chocolate and cheese and bread. It's just not fair! Also, whose the hell idea was PMS? Or menstruation at all, really?
- My socks, which keep sliding down. I'm not OCD about many things, but socks are one. When I pull my socks up, I expect them to stay there for more than fifteen seconds. It really, seriously drives me nuts to have slidey socks. And it's not like my calves are too skinny to hold them up, either, they're just incompetent socks. *fist of rage*
- My job, my total lack of independent wealth, and basically every other thing in the world that isn't babies or animals. Argh!
And that's enough of that pettiness, I think. By way of apology, how about some pictures of fuzzy babies?