The Grumpiness...

Every time I go anywhere with the nephew, just before we get out of the car I say, "What do good little boys and girls get?' and they yell, "GOOD THINGS!" "And what do bad little boys and girls get?" and we all say in low, growly voices, "The GRUMPINESS." Today I'm feeling the grumpiness.
I'm taking Bean and the nephew to Pirates of the Caribbean this afternoon. It's either a three hour excuse to look at Johnny Depp (okay, and Orlando Bloom - I know he's jut a baby but I'm not made of stone, people), or it's my three-hour nap. Do you think they'd look at me strange if I brought a pillow and maybe a smallish blanket? I could pretend it was for the kids... except that if I have a blanket they'll want one too. The seats at the theatre we always go to have arm rests that lift up... if we sat way in the back I could just stretch out over three or four chairs...

Jeez, I'm tired. Oh, and cold. The physical plant at the university sets our temperature and they seem to get it wrong pretty much all the time. It's been a billion degrees outside for most of the last couple of months, but it's cooled down (all the way down to the mid 80's, at least for a few days) and it's been rainy so we really don't need the a/c on full arctic blast all day and all night right now. I would call and ask them to change it, but by the time they did I'd be gone for the day and it would start to get hot again and then we'd all fry for a couple of days while they tried to remember to make it cool again. It's sort of like those showers in hotels that are only the right temperature when they're on the way to the wrong temperature. I should have worn layers. I even train new board ops to dress in layers.

In good news, our computers at work (wait, I should just whisper this, so as not to attract fate) the computers at work seem to be all working and everything has been recording well which means there might just be a light at the end of this tunnel. I might actually get some time off finally. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
A-hem. Anyway...


My pretty red nail polish is chipping. Already. I swear it's those horrible lights they make you stick your hands under. I think next time I'll just stick with the fans... the lights can't be good for you anyway, considering the fact that they sure look a lot like tanning bed lights and they make the skin on my hands feel dry and itchy. That last part might be all in my mind. I'm sure it is.

I'm on the foot part of my sock... about an inch or so from the start of the toe decreases. I love socks that maintain some kind of pattern from the leg down the foot (like my beloved Crusoe socks). It keeps you from going into a coma with the endless teeny tiny stockinette stitch. And it makes for a nice lookin' sock. I also am finding that I love short socks like Crusoe and this basket sock I'm making (I know, I'll post pictures soon). They seem so much faster - you only have a couple of inches before you're onto the heel and then suddenly it's foot time, baby!

We're starting the whole house hunt extravaganza again next weekend. I took a few weeks off because of my father in law, and then because I had other stuff going on yesterday. I really think that I haven't wanted to go out looking because it's depressing me so much. I mean, I hate our hose. Hate. The. House. But what we can afford is about as small and grim as what we have. As much as I want to not pay rent anymore I don't want to buy a money pit and I don't want to live with the kind of crap we've been living with. Like, the front part of the house is a "sunroom" that used to be a porch. The landlord built on this room and it leaks. A lot. Like, a couple of inches. Which I didn't know until we had already set up our bookshelves in there. So now there are bookshelves pulled out from the walls and sitting at strange angles to stay away from the flow... and there really isn't space anywhere else in the house for them.

I'm feeling this need to declutter. There is no real reason why I need to own more books than sense. There is no reason why I need to keep clothes I haven't worn for five years. If I ever DO lose enough weight to fit into my sundresses I could just buy new sundresses, right? I don't cook anymore, so why do I have twenty five cookbooks? My sister said I should have a garage sale when it gets cooler. Maybe. Though I would really rather stab myself repeatedly with size 0 dpn's until I bleed to death.

Oh, and I don't have the time or energy to sort through my crap. maybe I should just light a match. Everything really vital is in my car anyway, right?