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i hope it helps true
Aug. 21st, 2004 03:22 amTwo hours of words eaten by a crash. Serve me right attempting to multi-task full throttle on a machine that randomly crashes whenever it's heavy java. Even not mentioning that it hasn't been on for days. *shakes head* It went smoothly for a full three hours. *whines* All my little letters... ees and queues and esses. Into the void. *laughter* Serves me right. Whiny pissant girl.
Arrived home to a gritty odour warning that perhaps the ferretlove may be in trouble. I have no allergies yet my eyes want to shut against the air. The roommate has failed. I think my fish may be dead and the answering machine politely informs me that I missed Darina's wedding at 2 pm this afternoon. The box is full of poptart boxes and empty pop bottles. He is not home for me to wax wrathful at, which is odd, because we've come in at 11 pm. I suppose tomorrow he dies. Roommate malfunction in sector two-oh-one. I'll mother him if I have to get the guilt glands running. Wax whatever it takes, actually. The moon will fall and drown in his damned sorrow if my little one is hurt. Poor lovely ferret was SO happy to be out of the cage that he was bounding into EVERYTHING. Walls, ankles, self, other walls. Obvious the darling hadn't been out of the cage all week. A little furry tube of springing joy. I said to Ian and Ethan as they packed endless cobs of corn into the fridge that I was a bad mommie. Ian said, "no - it's daddy who's bad" and I had a split second where I caught myself thinking, "no.. daddy's in Ka ... damn brain.." He's out there asleep now. I have the oddest suspicion that the roommate is actually not going to be coming home, though ghods only knows what he could get up to that would require him staying the night somewhere else, so I think I may let the ferret run out for the night. I may not though, considering the scary mess the box is now in. He may choke on some random bit of Oreo box plastic that's scattered on the floor somewhere.
The book my lovely Gavool sent me arrived. He sweetly sent it overnight. Papillion. His bible is an escape from prison.
My LJ friend Dys wrote something today I quite liked:
there is no justice in desire, no satisfaction in wanting, no mercy for unrequited hearts; that is why these words exist. moods shift based on the simplest of wishes: two cups of coffee at a late night dirty diner, your lipstick on my collar, a shared taxi; the chemical formula of lovers. i have to ask: there is no selfishness in these, is there? i might as well ask for the world, only to find out that there is no such thing as a simple wish. atheists are born on nights like tonight.
Arrived home to a gritty odour warning that perhaps the ferretlove may be in trouble. I have no allergies yet my eyes want to shut against the air. The roommate has failed. I think my fish may be dead and the answering machine politely informs me that I missed Darina's wedding at 2 pm this afternoon. The box is full of poptart boxes and empty pop bottles. He is not home for me to wax wrathful at, which is odd, because we've come in at 11 pm. I suppose tomorrow he dies. Roommate malfunction in sector two-oh-one. I'll mother him if I have to get the guilt glands running. Wax whatever it takes, actually. The moon will fall and drown in his damned sorrow if my little one is hurt. Poor lovely ferret was SO happy to be out of the cage that he was bounding into EVERYTHING. Walls, ankles, self, other walls. Obvious the darling hadn't been out of the cage all week. A little furry tube of springing joy. I said to Ian and Ethan as they packed endless cobs of corn into the fridge that I was a bad mommie. Ian said, "no - it's daddy who's bad" and I had a split second where I caught myself thinking, "no.. daddy's in Ka ... damn brain.." He's out there asleep now. I have the oddest suspicion that the roommate is actually not going to be coming home, though ghods only knows what he could get up to that would require him staying the night somewhere else, so I think I may let the ferret run out for the night. I may not though, considering the scary mess the box is now in. He may choke on some random bit of Oreo box plastic that's scattered on the floor somewhere.
The book my lovely Gavool sent me arrived. He sweetly sent it overnight. Papillion. His bible is an escape from prison.
My LJ friend Dys wrote something today I quite liked:
there is no justice in desire, no satisfaction in wanting, no mercy for unrequited hearts; that is why these words exist. moods shift based on the simplest of wishes: two cups of coffee at a late night dirty diner, your lipstick on my collar, a shared taxi; the chemical formula of lovers. i have to ask: there is no selfishness in these, is there? i might as well ask for the world, only to find out that there is no such thing as a simple wish. atheists are born on nights like tonight.
