"No, Really. It'll Take Too Long To Explain To You Why I Need Exactly 36 Vinyl Washers. Don't Ask."
The small local hardware store moved locations (a few blocks) approximately six months ago. I still have no idea where anything is now because the young gentleman behind the counter absolutely refuses to let me wander around the store unattended. I've yet to determine if this is because he is a helpful person, or a person bored beyond the capacity of words to describe, or if I am a female in a hardware store who doesn't know where anything is. Or some combination of the above.
The guys at the other local, slightly larger hardware store know me on sight by now and are demanding pictures of my completed project (they even admired my boss carpentry skillz.). It's this sort of thing that gives me a wholesome sense of accomplishment.
Marathon sessions of photoshoppery that cause my body to firmly and resolutely shut down for 12+ hours of sleep because I have been negligent in keeping myself hydrated, nourished, and able to generate a consistent 98.6° internal temperature . . . that sort of nullifies my wholesome sense of accomplishment.
Especially when it happened, not once, but twice this weekend.
On the upside, my sleep schedule has been brought neatly into sync with the rest of the world and I can stop posting at 4 am. Hurrah.
So that's what eight in the morning looks like, eh? Hm! How odd.
The guys at the other local, slightly larger hardware store know me on sight by now and are demanding pictures of my completed project (they even admired my boss carpentry skillz.). It's this sort of thing that gives me a wholesome sense of accomplishment.
Marathon sessions of photoshoppery that cause my body to firmly and resolutely shut down for 12+ hours of sleep because I have been negligent in keeping myself hydrated, nourished, and able to generate a consistent 98.6° internal temperature . . . that sort of nullifies my wholesome sense of accomplishment.
Especially when it happened, not once, but twice this weekend.
On the upside, my sleep schedule has been brought neatly into sync with the rest of the world and I can stop posting at 4 am. Hurrah.
So that's what eight in the morning looks like, eh? Hm! How odd.