Ugghh.
It's 1 April.
Some disconnected thoughts:
1. This is not, of course, a joke post. (I would have thought that the thing about the
Anglo-Saxon antibiotic *was* a hoax, but it came out like two days early, and after Mom's manuscripts
article in Trends in Genetics, it's not like I don't know that these kinds of bizarro interdisciplinary projects don't happen.)
2. It's also Wednesday in Holy Week. Not sure where I'm going with that, but I wanted to throw that out there. It's obviously on my mind; it certainly was when I originally contemplated that:
3. In one version of events, I was supposed to be moving into the Somerville apartment today. The fact that I am not is rather depressing.
I mean, I'm too thoroughly broke to pay the security deposit on it right now. Though then again, I'm going to be even broker in a month unless something comes up on the job front; but then again, it COULD. (It better.)
3a. Ever wake up in the morning and have a sudden urge to drink a quart of PBR?
As it is, I'm trying to make a couple cups of tea and some cocoa do the work of an extra hour of sleep and a lot less anxiety.
(Also, Hypnos? What's with you apparently demanding overtime from me?)
3b. Apparently the packing urge is coming on me anyway. Yesterday I suddenly had the urge to pack up all my silverware and just make do with Mitbewohner's for the next four weeks.*
4. Things I have been doing too much recently: listening to First Aid Kit; anal-retentively creating ever-more detailed maps of (and base map collages for) my "Germany 1920, as it would have been if I'd gone back in town with a death ray"
* Admittedly, Squigamunk has been starting pruning their stuff for weeks, despite the fact that they're not moving til June. One of us is apparently radically bonkers when packing is concerned.