When you have to work two shifts in one day and neither is overtime because they happen to be exactly 8 hours apart! *grumble grumble* Now I have to go sleep so I can be up for the next one. Bah!
If it hadn't been pieday friday, someone might have had to be hurt.
4 comments:
What kind of pie?
Sorry about the work. Severe punishments may be in order. Use dull needles.
Hope the rest of your weekend is better.
Re cleaning: Okay, well, if you had to use my bathroom after a month of me using it, I think you'd become just a tad more anal retentive yourself! Either that, or you would invent a number of names for me involving the word "slob" or "pig". Just think of my bathroom mirror as a canvas you're desperately trying to erase, as for some reason the picture you're drawing is intent on including straight-legged jeans tucked into boots when it's 80 degrees out (C, not F). Worse, the person wearing the jeans is Finney, and he has a hat on that says, "Ha HA! I am a theologian."
Wow. A little over the top, even for me.
re other stuff: I'm a pumpkin pie person myself. The story about your resident is cute. I can imagine devious grandmothers sabatoging the raisin supply. Excellent.
And I probably would not drive through all of Canada, or even half of it, in a day. This would be a relatively lengthy trip, I imagine. If I can help it, though, I will skip Gehenna. It sounds dreadfully interesting, and I do mean dreadfully.
Lastly, to make a long comment longer, the prints of the pictures turned out really well. I printed an 8x10 of the blue tang and the clownfish, and they came out really well. The 8x10s of the breaking clinic not so much, but still worth printing, I think.
The only reason I mention this is because it's the very first time I've printed a digital photo, and I'm really happy at how they came out, and I'm basically telling anyone and everyone this news. It's not quite as good as the gospel, but it's worth a smile or two.
Liquored up? Well, no...but I may have had a little too much caffeine or been slightly asleep while writing that. (Not entirely contradictory, given how fast I metabolize the stuff.)
You know, I used to wear my jeans in my socks. In 1986. I'm not sure how I got the idea to do that. To this day, I will not wear long socks. I wouldn't wear any at all if I could get away with it.
I would've responded to this sooner, but I was too busy looking for Welsh grammar pages. :-P She has good taste in pie, too—raisins are evil.
No, I wasn't 12 in 1986...maybe almost 6? It was funny, because I was rather sternly instructed at school no longer to tuck my jeans into my socks—I am not sure if this was fashio facism, or if I was somehow breaking one of the rules of dress code. Regardless, I would grow up to commit many a fashion faux pas in my lifetime, extending even to wearing brown and black together (something Ericka would always yell at me for).
My circulation results in cold feet at night, but eventually they warm up due to hypothermia, so I don't always feel compelled to wear socks.
Working with the residents sounds fun. They're probably easier to subdue than some of my students!
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