Apparently those mood-enhancing light bulbs of which I've heard are quackery. It's a shame, because it's only September and I'm already becoming Winter Dianna. Today was cloudy, cold, and intermittently rainyish. Tonight my house is dark, empty, and scary, and everything in it is unuseable. I can't eat the vegetables sitting in the kitchen because going to the trouble of cooking for just one person (Jacob being at the beamline tonight) is ridiculous, but I'm singularly unmoved by leftovers. The cats are restless, skittish, and needing to be escorted inside or outside every five seconds. My laptop, which arrived yesterday, has crashed twice in the last hour. I should try restarting it again, but before I do that I should have some dinner, probably using those vegetables, and maybe do the dishes because they're piling up, and clean the cat box, and take a look at the substitution paperwork for getting credit for my Near Eastern Archaeology class, but I need to write a short essay for that one and I can't do that until I've had some dinner, using dishes which aren't clean so I'd better clean them, but I can't tackle that sink full of dishes until I've managed to feed myself. You see how the whole list comes crashing down.
Oh, and the blue toilet tank insert in my toilet has suddenly turned the water pink, by which I'm so unnerved that I've shut the bathroom doors and I'm not opening them again until Jacob gets home. I think I read something about Sumerian toilet tank demons in that class, but if I'm going to dig out my notes I may as well work on that substitution form, and there's no way I'm sitting hunched over a piece of paper while pink-water-toilet-tank demons lurk behind me. In the movies the girl who sits at her desk obliviously writing always winds up as demon fodder. Always.Posted by dianna at September 20, 2005 09:32 PM