Echo, Echo, Echo…: August 1, 2004
In which I am still packing.
Categorized
(Note to all those reviewers who are milling about this site right now: This is not a very good entry. In fact, it’s kind of stupid. I’d warn the regular readers not to read it, but I don’t really care what they think of it—they’re not giving me points out of 100, right?* If you want to read some journal entries that represent me as the witty, brilliant, glamorous, all-around smashing person I truly am, you should read this or this or this. Or even this.)
Whoa, it’s quiet around here… echo, echo, echo… geez, whoever owns this place should be a little more proactive when it comes to making updates and writing entries…
Oh. Right.
I know, I know—I’ve been a bad site-owner recently. Blame the heat, blame the hubby, blame the pile of boxes in front of the computer... all have conspired to keep me from my online life. I’m like the Audrey Seiler of the internet—I disappear for days on end, then pop up in the marsh that is this site.
You can definitely blame that analogy on the heat.
Anyway. What have I been up to? Packing, mostly. Packing and eating cookies and watching really bad television movies and reading the Wall Street Journal and even writing a story or two on the computer and—what’s that? Oh, all right, you caught me. I have been at the computer lately, writing tons of stupid stories. And when one is writing stupid stories, one tends to get so caught up in one’s stupid story world that one completely neglects to update one’s site. Yes, one sucks. One must be punished.
A remarkable portion of my time has been taken up with Work-related stuff—despite my decision not to worry about Work until the move had been completed, I find myself thinking about it quite a lot. I’ve been making a lot of progress on my as-yet-unpublished Work website, and I think I may even go so far as to say IT ABSOLUTELY ROCKS, so all my competitors better run like hell when they see it coming. I am the God of My Chosen Field (Which I Still Cannot Tell You About In Detail Because You Will ALL Want To Do It, Yes It Is Just That Cool)! Fear me!
(Note to the man with the ice-cream hand-cart and the annoying dingy-bell who keeps walking back and forth in front of my window looking for customers: You better fear me too, mister, because I can easily set you on fire from where I—m sitting without even having to go outside. I know this from experience.)
But now, as of today, I have decided that there shall be no more Work-related things at all for the rest of this month. That’s right—no matter how much I want to tweak the Work site, no matter how often I feel the urge to do something that could potentially bring in profit, no matter how many mornings I wake up early thinking “Gee, I’m up, I might as well get to Work!”—no more. There will be plenty of time for Work after the Great Migration of 2004. The rest of this month is going to be Housework Time, where I spend my days with my head in the oven (cleaning it, folks, just cleaning it). And then after the Great Migration, I’m going to allow myself a week or so of Happy Skippy Fun Time, where I spend my days jumping up and down in the center of my pretty new apartment and going, “Whee! I’m finally living in a nice Jewish neighborhood where they actually shovel the sidewalks in winter! Whee!”
And then I will return to Work.
But for now—site updates! Yes! I will go work on some things and then I will upload them and you will reap the fruits of my labour! Reap, I say!!!
Dammit, here comes the man with the ice-cream hand-cart again. Now… where did I put my matches?
* Sarcasm, dear readers, sarcasm. You know I love you guys.
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