In which being productive actually makes me feel like less of a grown-up than ever

Yesterday was a productive day--got a much-needed haircut and went grocery shopping for the first time in, I kid you not, about a month.

Missions for the next time I'm feeling productive:

*Get an oilchange already! My car's been so loud lately I'm starting to think the motor's gonna jump out through the hood in protest and go find an owner who can afford timely engine maintenance.

*Clean the bathroom. If I don't do this pretty soon, I think my bathtub's going to develop sentient lifeforms. Let's not even discuss the state of the counter. *shudder*

*Clean my room. Seeing as how I'm actually keeping my dirty clothes in the laundry basket at the moment, this isn't as bad as it could be. But the books and papers strewn randomly on the floor are getting a little out of control.

*Go through the gigantic stack of papers on my desk. Realistically, this ain't gonna happen til I move out in August, at which point it may well have taken over my entire desk and spread to the living room.

*Clear my crap outta the common areas. Kinda hard to complain about a messy roommate when at least half of the shit cluttering the living room is mine.

*Pay the electric bill. This has recently disappeared into the aforementioned Paper Pile of Death, so who knows when I'll find it.

Man, this list makes me tired just typing it. I am such a bad grown-up.

...speaking of which, Aubrey and I went to see Spy Kids 2 at Top of the Park tonight. Man, what I wouldn't give to be 10 again.

And further speaking of which, 5 days and counting 'til Harry Potter goodness!

Urgh.

There's nothing quite like being woken at 9:30AM with construction sounds, especially when I went to bed at 5, to get my day off to a crummy start.

Then of course the phone had to go ring.... true, it was Jo telling me she wanted to switch babysitting from Mon to Tue this week, so my hell day gets movied til tomorrow, which makes he happy. Still, though, my head is NOT happy with the world in general right now.

Bah. Going back to bed in hopes that it'll all be better when I wake up again...

And you thought I was weird while conscious...

Had a dream last night that I was rescued from a cult that my roommate had joined and was trying to drag me into.

Wonder if my unconscious is trying to tell me something.

Hey Shoshana, you haven't fallen in with a bunch of people who make you wear white robes and sing saccharine songs about love and goodwill and sacrificing yourself on altars and stuff, have you? 'Cause this is something one really might want to know about one's roommate. Also, if you ever do join a cult, please don't let its members run rampant through my room. I seem to remember that annoying me a lot.

That is all.

In which I actually write about the weather.

From deus_x:

"Memo to the Weather Engineers:

Great job these last few days. We are much pleased. Carry on."

Amen to that, my friend.

*checks forecast for next week*

Wow. So this is why I live in Michigan. I'd nearly forgotten.

45 minutes and counting til work's over, and I'm starting to get a little giddy.

Apropos of nothing, Neil Gaiman's journal made me laugh out loud today:

Of course, when stood next to the choice of American political parties ('So, would you like Right Wing, or Supersized Right Wing with Extra Fries?") my English fuzzy middle-of-the-roadness probably translates easily as bomb-throwing Trotskyist, but when I get to chat to proper lefties like Ken McCloud or China Mieville I feel myself retreating rapidly back into the woffly Guardian-reading why-can't-people-just-be-nice-to-each-otherhood of the politically out of his depth.

Also, I have once again been reminded that "snogging" is the best ever euphemism for making out. How come the British get all the good slang, anyway?

Man, I gotta get out of here. I'm this close to gnawing on my arm for lack of any other stimulation.

40 minutes. I can do this. Really.

Argh.