I suppose it would be nice if I had a life and actually had something to write here for all you lovely people to read. As it is, K went to work the early shift again today, so now she's home all cranky and tired and achy, and I sat here keeping the guy from the furnace company ... company. He worked for like, ever, and then said something about how I should have it serviced again at the beginning of the season. Uh ... what? Isn't this before the beginning of the heating season? Turned out he spent today servicing the air conditioner, which apparently should have been done in May (and he's right), and it did need work, so that's okay, but the whole point of this was not having to take a day off from work just to make sure the furnace works. (As I had to take a day last year when the humidifier started leaking all over the basement.)This is also that lovely end of the summer time when I realize that money is just a little tight until I get paid, which I haven't been since June. I hate thinking about money in any way, shape, or form; it makes me tense and unhappy and drops my self-esteem into the depths of hell because I am so bad at it. Well. Some years, they announce on the first day of school that they're giving us our first paycheck on the first Friday of the year, instead of the 15th, which is what we get by contract, and as transparent a ploy as this is, everyone in the room is so freaking grateful that we burst into spontaneous applause and simultaneous deep sighs of relief. Some school systems will pay their teachers over 12 months instead of 10, but mine is not one of them. They'll probably put that in the year after I retire.
Anybody watch Project Runway? I loved the epidose last night where they had to design something for each other's moms and/or sisters.
I have a relatively short to-do list tomorrow, including bringing a spare cat carrier I found in the basement and don't need over to Wonderful Niece, who has two cats and no carrier. And to drop off some cash -- there's that nasty word -- to the Sibs, who's writing a single check from all of us for the Bar Mitzvah boy next week in Florida. Where I will be one week from right now, I suppose. I understand, courtesy of the Chum, that the heat and humidity are deadly there now. I'm not surprised, but I'm not looking forward to it.
It has taken me the whole damn day to write this entry, and I haven't even said anything.
