I should never say anything out loud about headaches, because it's enough to cause them to multiply. The one I've got right now is making my teeth throb.
My cube-mate hates me with an awe-inspiring passion. It's really something to see, mostly because she passively-aggressively pretends to adore and worship me. She seems to want nothing more than to achieve best-friendship with everyone she works with, and I couldn't care less. It's a match made in ironical heaven.
In addition to all of the other things going on this week, I've added a two-hour block of fun and excitement tomorrow: an attempt to secure a new driver's license and license plates for my car. It has to be done during work hours because the written driver's test (required for those moving into this state) is only administered for a few hours, a couple of days a week--all of which are during my work hours. I'm taking a couple of hours' personal time to get it done. If by some miracle I happen to get my license and my plates taken care of within the time allotted and still have time remaining, I will dash over to the library and get registered there, too. That might be too much to expect for one (cold) afternoon's efforts, though. And because this all is scheduled within the test administration's hours, I will be coming back to work when it's done, for all of an hour, before I bop to the coffee shop for a scone or something quick, to take with me to the salon to nibble while I have my hair done up.
I changed my profile picture on FB yesterday to a random snapshot from my college days. I think it was taken by my female roommate, as I was sitting in her chair and leaning on her poster of The Cure, in our junior-year apartment. It was the worst apartment in the world, and I'm surprised that either of us ever looked as relaxed as I do in that photo. The funny part of all this is that I cannot recall ever sitting in that particular spot, can't imagine what in the heck would have compelled me to be just there, looking like that, and having my photo taken, of all things. I scanned the picture while on a quest for photos of other people, and posted it without really thinking about it.
It's turned out to be revelatory.
I've gotten a startling number of "likes", and eight back-channel messages about it. Seriously, eight different people have felt compelled to contact me to say various things about the picture. I'm flummoxed. Is it that good? Or is it that different, as compared to the usual...whatever...that I typically post? I know I change my profile pictures more than most people, but really--eight??
I've found a house for sale that I really, really like. I am trying not to like it, because it's way out of my price range anyway, and also vastly overpriced for the neighborhood (and for its own history). But it's hard, because it's in a quiet neighborhood, it's light enough for plants without seeming too open. It's got wall space for bookcases, a spot for the ping-pong table!, and room for my dining room set, which is definitely not a given. The surrounding area is gorgeous. My parents didn't even have a strong objection to it, which was totally amazing. I've even dreamed about it, which is both awesome and dreadful. Uuuuuugggghhhhhh
Every day at 4:30, I'm exhausted enough to fall asleep until it's time to get up for work the following day. Right now, I'm alert enough to be awake for several hours, but it's time to turn off the computer (which has been on for maybe 25 minutes, not hours and hours) and get to bed. My current schedule is not optimal, but it's what I've got. I must obey.
[the title quotation is by T.S. Eliot]