no work no work lalalalalala

While my company doesn't have MLK off, as a consultant, my schedule is flexible, and I requested the day off.

I'm inordinately ecstatic about not working today, which makes no sense, because I will be working more another day.

Regardless, because of the start of Saturday classes and the odd truncated feeling of my weekends, I think I'm going to see if this schedule just works better for me.

And what the hell am I doing out of bed, then.

*dives back under the comforter*

purr

Days off are so freaking exciting. And I realize that it doesn't make any sense for me to be particularly excited about taking today off, because it simply means I'll be working on Thursday, yet it's thrilling regardless.

Slept blissfully in. Continued re-read of Sandman. It's amazing the details Gaiman weaves and how stories are connected. I Neil Gaiman.

Have spent rest of the day cleaning up and organizing and constantly reminding myself that I need to pick up Ellie and Jeff at the airport at 11:30.

Need to go grocery shopping, too. This is less exciting. It's one of the tedious requirements of life (should you actually want to prepare food and eat it), but I always forget some item, even if I've made list. I try to go at off-peak hours to avoid crowds. I invariably get the teenage check out clerk and the lady with 5000 coupons in front of me, Yet I can't do the online-delivery grocery shopping thing, either, because the concept just freaks me out.

Also hope the damn book for TC402 comes today or I'm going to have to sprint over to B&N after work and before class tomorrow to read Chapter 8.

Now? The joy of laundry. And I swear to god at some point today I'm going to knit or quilt something because that keeps getting put off.

argh

Holy shit, it's cold.

All I want to do at this point is get in bed and read, but I'm afraid I'll fall asleep, which I can't do tonight because I have to pick up Ellie and Jeff from SeaTac at 11:30pm. I should note that they were too nice to ask for a ride, I volunteered. So this is completely of my own making.

I need to put on a million more layers. Granted, it's only about 45, but for some reason, I'm freezing.

There's no greater martyr than a cat whose wet food has run out. Hobbes gets 3/4 cup of kibble to nosh on all day and then 1/4 can of wet food at night. He begins to panic about the wet food at 11:30am. Today I've run out of wet food and plan to hit the store on the way home from dropping Ellie and Jeff at home. Hobbes began gently reminding me of his dietary needs around 7pm. Nudging, head-butting. Caterwauling. He's now settled on the bed and has a fixed malevolent look to him.

I've tried to assure him that food is forthcoming as soon as I get home, but he doesn't seem to understand.

There's nothing more humbling than being enslaved to a creature that licks its own ass.