Husband took me to the Art Gallery of WA today to see the MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) exhibition "Picasso to Warhol: Fourteen Modern Masters". i.e. Abstract leaning towards Surrealism with an aftertaste of Pop. I liked it. Mostly. Warhol continues to leave me cold, but maybe that's the idea.

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I have been remiss in reporting progress on Cymbalta, but things have certainly been happening. I'll try and record as much of that as possible, and maybe write about my trip to the Big Bad City today. (Apologies for the lack of linear coherence in this post - I'm not feeling quite *that* well yet.)

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It's just struck me that the high point of my day was experienced while shopping for kitty litter. Some might find this state of affairs depressing; I was just glad to get out of the house, albeit with heavy dependence on The Stick.

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[Dedicated in part to hipikat - is this sufficiently over 140 characters for your liking?]I ordered something very important on June 20 and it has not yet arrived. Today marks 17 business days elapsed since processing confirmation, which normally you'd expect to fall within the 4-6 business days suggested by the site as an appropriate delivery window. ( Read more... )

I've done a bit of online shopping lately which means that I have parcels to look forward to. I am in desperate need of cheering up so I thought I'd make myself a list of nice things in my future:

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Today was round 2 of electrical works at Sector 7, and I'll try to remember all the relevant details, although right now I'm exhausted.

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Visits from tradesmen are always interesting, in the Chinese curse sense. Today's electrician's visit was rather information dense so I thought it best to record it here. And, you know, complain a little.

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Lovely Husband broke me out of Sector 7 this morning for a really nice outing lasting about 3 hours. The cold has finally broken it's grip and I've been as restless as all hell so I Had To Get Out. The cats have been driving me bezerk - either clinging to me en masse, or complaining loudly for service. Flufficide has been contemplated.

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My mattress is trying to kill me. I've suspected it for some time now, but having made the decision to do something about it I must have aroused its suspicions and now it's engaging in all-out war.

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It's quite a while since I've posted actual life updatery here, so I'll see what comes of a ramble.

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