I'll be in my fort.

Hyperbole and a Half had one of the best descriptions of what she calls the Sneaky Hate Spiral.  I suggest you read that now if you haven't, I'll wait.

If you decided to come back and not ditch me in favor of power slamming the archives of Hyperbole and a Half (which I would totally not blame you for doing) let's proceed with the day.

Of all the ways to be rudely awakened I've experienced, I had a new one today that I have no desire to ever relive.  Ever.  EVER.

I feel a hair on my face.  Attempt to brush off.  Attempt unsuccessful.  Have two horrible realizations at once: 1) my hair is no longer long enough to touch my mouth and 2) oh god it moved on its own.

Sit up.  Brush 'hair' off as it tries to make its way into my nose.  Identify what has been masquerading as hair.

I have no explanation for the French thing.

Then I set the bed on fire.  I may have also convinced myself that I now have spider eggs in my sinus cavity and spent the rest of the day compulsively blowing my nose.

Despite knowing for a couple of weeks that we'd need signs for the adoption event happening tomorrow I continued my life long habit of being the queen of procrastination.  I made the graphics last night, but didn't bother to get up to measure the foam core board on which the printed posters would be pasted.

And thus I learned the more basic corollary to 'measure twice, cut once':

The Boyfriend wants the rescue to have a plug.

The kittens' sleep in a crate and it was past due for it to be cleaned out.  While cleaning the litter box I unsurprisingly dropped the bag of litter that weights approximately eight and a half million pounds, reaffirming my hatred of clay litter when it blew up in my face.  Now I had another reason for compulsive nose blowing.

 As a hermit* I rarely leave the house.  As a possible vampire it's even more rare for me to do so during the day.  But there were kitten related errands that had to be done so out we went.  Straight onto the surface of the sun.  But then I remembered that August in Texas is just like that.  If I could punch Texas in its non-existent face I would.

We got the posters printed and turns out the scaled up logo image I used (because I was too lazy to make a bigger one) looked like a pixellated mess.  Despite looking fine in GIMP.  So, I guess we're adopting out 8-bit Super Mario kittens.

After finishing up with the poster related stuff we had some time to kill before the kittens' new ringworm meds were ready at the pharmacy.  And the book store was right next door.  And books are the secret to a happy resa.

After picking up what was probably too big a stack already, I decided that I needed something light and fluffy that wouldn't ask me to think.

Then had the following conversation with the Boyfriend:

Me:  I need brain candy.
Him:  I just picked up some Dick Francis.
Me:  No.
Him:  You could read the latest Sue Grafton.
Me:  No.
Him:  There's a new Janet Evanovich out.
Me:  IF I WANTED A MYSTERY I WOULDN'T BE IN THE SCI-FI/FANTASY SECTION!

And now I'm stubbornly not sleeping even though I have to be up relatively early.  And I need to put on some more fungus cream because I too have the ringworm.  Pater has taken to calling me his 'scabrous daughter,' so at least someone's getting a kick out of it.


* The Boyfriend and I have decided that when someone asks what our relationship is we're going to say co-hermitants.  Because I still don't want to get married, but we've been dating for quite a while now.  But that's a story for another day.