how cold this night

now to figure out how to get home from the double-tree inn with no american monies

Packing for Norwescon is driving me crazy today. Generally it's simple; find what fits, throw it in a suitcase. Except today. To finish the task, I must paw through a month's worth of dirty clothes, as my landlord continues to ignore my requests to buy laundry tokens. Every few minutes, I must quash my irrational desire to shake a tiny fist in the air and declare him damned to a similar fate. Bad enough that he's ignoring me and nothing's being done, must I really throw myself elbow deep into a land of mud, tree bark, sweat and stains? To comfort myself, I have begun eating a strawberry for every successful laundry find. The bad news is that I'm running out of supplies.

Later this afternoon, however, Christine will be by from Montreal, which is all kinds of good, and tomorrow I'm getting a ride down to Seattle, which saves me four hours of being on a bus.

the man who threatens to have sex with my cat