The plumber still hasn’t called me back.
My car’s real check engine light came on this evening. And my car smelled like wet paint all the way home. So, that’s probably not good.
And I have a million meetings this week.
And I need to get over to the Metro Archives but time and car are conspiring against me.
And the stressful thing that threatens to consume my whole winter is actually forcing me to respond to things more quickly than I had anticipated.
I have feelings. Many stressful feelings.
Everything else is strange and uncalled for in a bad way, but my curls today are strange and uncalled for in a wonderful way. I’m wearing my hair down all day just to see what they might do next.
Also, I disapprove of my gray hairs not being as curly as the rest of them, but wholly approve of them being silver.
Later, when I tell you about this, I’ll make it into a story and each part will seem to inevitably lead to the next. Sense will be made of things. Facts that are unnecessary distractions will be recognized as such and discarded. The important things will be clear and thus framed as such.
But, in the meantime? Ugh. Folks. Just ugh.
Tiny Cat Pants 