hello. it's late and it's raining and I am so tired, but my head doesn't hurt anymore, for which I am grateful. (there was, apparently, according to the exited man standing in front of a green screen, some kind of SYSTEM in Alaska that was causing PRESSURE in the atmosphere and I guess because I'm so freaking delicate, Alaskan pressure gives me headaches. I know it sounds like there's a dirty joke somewhere in there, but I promise you it's just meteorology. that's what she said!)
The rain is so nice right now in a comfortable for sleeping way. (I am so tired, which I believe I have mentioned.) If I could bottle the temperature and sound and general good-for-sleepingness vibe happening out my window and give it away to insomniacs, I would.
I think I'm also tired due to an unexpected bonanza of work hours. I'm glad to have them, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't putting a crimp in my nano domination plans. The world's noisiest eater of carrot sticks - he could win a PRIZE - took his breaks at the same time as me today, so anything other than writing carrot, carrot, carrot, CARROT, jabbed to death by carrots, carrot, orange mayhem, carrot crossbow, 20 carat orange diamond lost in gaping maw of crunching carrot beast, etc. was right out. I read the tomato essay from Charles Simic's The Unemployed Fortune Teller instead, and that was just right.
also just right when you're tired and it's late and it's raining and the sound of crunching carrots has mercifully ended: this video of St. Vincent and Andrew Bird (via smut to-go). I'll admit that I might have lost patience with it if I first heard it in in the busy daytime, but it's aces for rainy nighttime.
The rain is so nice right now in a comfortable for sleeping way. (I am so tired, which I believe I have mentioned.) If I could bottle the temperature and sound and general good-for-sleepingness vibe happening out my window and give it away to insomniacs, I would.
I think I'm also tired due to an unexpected bonanza of work hours. I'm glad to have them, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't putting a crimp in my nano domination plans. The world's noisiest eater of carrot sticks - he could win a PRIZE - took his breaks at the same time as me today, so anything other than writing carrot, carrot, carrot, CARROT, jabbed to death by carrots, carrot, orange mayhem, carrot crossbow, 20 carat orange diamond lost in gaping maw of crunching carrot beast, etc. was right out. I read the tomato essay from Charles Simic's The Unemployed Fortune Teller instead, and that was just right.
also just right when you're tired and it's late and it's raining and the sound of crunching carrots has mercifully ended: this video of St. Vincent and Andrew Bird (via smut to-go). I'll admit that I might have lost patience with it if I first heard it in in the busy daytime, but it's aces for rainy nighttime.
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