alas, time stays--we go

• This has been one gorgeous rainy week. Perfect sleeping, reading, and gazing-into-middle-distance weather. Less wondrous for activities like sprinting from the car toward work, or getting to work on time (ha ha), or feeling particularly motivated to buy groceries and the like.
• Maybe I've been watching too much science (or what passes for science) on TV lately, but I'm pretty much convinced that I was surreptitiously implanted with a foreign device, in my brain, that's being used to trigger apocalyptic-level headaches. Because it's obvious that:
  1. this isn't a naturally-occurring phenomenon (nothing feels this bad),
  2. somebody hates me (because I must've done something wrong to deserve this), and
  3. it's being triggered externally and malevolently, because anytime that I really, really just want a beer or a good nap, my head is shrieking and pounding like a 90s rave.
  Doesn't seem fair, really, but I suppose that's the point.
• I've read a few books lately. Like, three last weekend, two during the week, and another two so far this weekend. Not sure what's up with the sudden voraciousness, but I'm obviously enjoying it. Main drawback: dirty dishes and laundry piling up (don't worry, all have been washed. Laundry is even maybe half folded...and in heaps sort of all over the apt.), and somewhat less sleep than would be preferred.
• Saw The Cat yesterday. I was going to write this obliquely, but I'm afraid someone would actually believe I'd been consorting with felines, rather than one of my best friends. As much as I like the four-legged version, this was better for me. She hung out at the workplace with me (did more work than I did, even), and then we had a long lunch with her spouse. It's been too long since we've had a chance to talk, and it went too fast - as always.
  [Gaaah! Gotta get the envelope out of my bag before Monday.]
• The Dirty Mormon rises again. Another message to my work account. For a stupid, disgusting stalker, the dude's got tenacity. This has been going on for years.
• Super Landlord Man "fixed" the light in my bathroom, which has been misbehaving for a month or so. After explaining the problem, patiently requesting assistance, and then hassling him for 3 1/2 weeks until he agreed to have someone check it out, he finally showed up. Walked into the bathroom, flipped the switch, popped the lid off the fixture, and [sigh] screwed in the bulb. Oh, yeah; that was all it needed. In my defense, I didn't know how to remove the lid, had never opened the fixture, and hadn't put in the bulb. Still felt like an ass, though.
  The funny part? Afterward, as he was walking back to the door, he said, "Wow! Those lights [in the parking lot, aimed directly into my windows] are bright!" Yes. I believe I mentioned that before. *eye roll*
• Bacon Omelet seemed a much better idea in theory than it was in practice. It was a new adventure in "salty."
  Oddly--a little sadly--it reminded me of a conversation, begun but (like too many along this line) never finished, about my preference for food without sauce. It began with a statement that I like "a well-cooked steak," which was misinterpreted to mean that I prefer my steak well-done. It sounds silly, but I recall it with a sense of melancholy.