Thursday, July 14, 2005

TIVO whore

Yup, I'm a TIVO whore...when my husband goes out of town, I sit in front of the idiot box watching endless drivel. No commercials! But all that means is that I watch even more bad TV, compressed into more intense blocks. MUST...KILL...TV.

Thank goodness for N., who has concert and party invites. Hooray for Bastille Day! Now I must practice my three non-obscene French words. Bon Nuit.

Moving to Portland

Wow--I think we're really going to do it. We collect clutter like a coral reef, so I can't imagine getting the house ready to put on the market. Come one, come all, get your free stuff! Freecycle will ring like a slot machine this week.

All our friends are mad at us moving away. Particularly, and rightfully, R.S., who is pissed that we cancelled the Japan trip. I'd be pissed if I were him too, which makes it worse. N. says she'll stand in front of the house and tell buyers it's haunted. Most of all I'm sad to move away from my friend A.W. (not the rootbeer) who is going to have a baby girl soon! I love her kids, and Auntie Suzy won't be able to visit as much. I think we have to drug all our friends and move them with us. If we wake them up very slowly, maybe they won't notice the change. At least until winter, when it mysteriously won't snow. I still think the lifestyle change (less stress, more outdoor life, easier commute) will be good for us. We'll see--try it for a year, and come back if we hate it. Two weeks left at work, wrapping up my grants, very weird.

Howard gets back Saturday...should I go Catholic schoolgirl or catsuit?

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Actually not sleepy at all!

Ah, insomnia. My days begin at midnight. It's truly odd, trying to reset my internal clock, which apparently thinks I live in London. A postcard would be nice, since my internal clock apparently travels without me. I should be writing now, but I'm not, because if I start writing now, I tend to stop only when the sunlight coming in through the window hurts my eyes and think...oh no, it's morning. Again.

My husband snores away contentedly like a big hibernating bear. Tomorrow, my eyes will glaze over in a staff meeting. Sleep well!