*peer* *squint* *stare*

[verbicide]

I feel like such a granny lately. I've recently discovered the zoom feature on various bits of software. Opera. Outlook Express. Word. Yes, I always knew it existed, but it never really occurred to me to use it (I'm slow, ok?). Now, instead of hunting for my glasses, I sometimes crank everything up to 200% magnification. I can read at 100%, but it takes a little bit of concentration. Oh, it's lovely. Everything is so BIG and CLEAR now.

Also, the rats or wolves or whatever living in the wall behind my laundry machine are freaking me the fuck out. They need to stop making scurrying sounds. The other day I'd left the doors open, and was cautiously moving towards the machines when Hobbes darted out from behind and nearly gave me a heart attack as I thought he was an enormous, orange rat. I gave off the sort of frightened squeak that would have made most of my friends snort their beverage of choice out their noses.

I am DYING for IHOP. I have no earthly idea why. I haven't been since LA with my little cousins (who worship the place) and don't normally crave pancakes. It's not part of my restaurant repertoire. I think pancakes are fine, but I don't normally drool at the thought. But suddenly, my life is all about pancakes ("Liver is my life"--SiP). Of course I have no intention of going. I don't even know if there is an IHOP anywhere near me. But I know I really want some pancakes. *salivate*

I've decided to ditch class tonight and just email the fucking assignment. Yes, fine, I'm a bad person wasting my educational opportunities. But GODDAMN, I'm so happy having made this decision. I nearly skipped around my apartment. That class is such a fucking waste of time.

SiP comes out this Wednesday. Third installment of the David Arc. WANT!

Comments

[devinshire.livejournal.com]

No IHOP's in Ballard. Actually, the closest one is 2 blocks from my apartment. I practically LIVE there during the days leading up to midterms and finals. I have to force myself away from all the things that distract me at home, so I pack up my computer (if I'm writing a paper) and shame myself into writing as much as I possibly can before my battery dies. Is that lame, or what? Oh, well!

[verbicide.livejournal.com]

Not lame at ALL. That's totally what I did during my finals, except at Border's. I couldn't go home. Home had a bed, and a kitty, and a television and the biggest devil of all: The Internet.

I should have hauled myself out to IHOP and had the pancakes and forced myself to do my damn assignment. Instead, it's 7pm and I'm still sitting here scowling at it. Almost done, though. Hallelujah.