This week, apparently, I’ve become a slug in other areas of life as well? I mean, as the highlight of course, there was the Hard Drive Incident of 2011. On Monday, after months up leadup, J.Lo backed up his entire music library – 40GB and 20 yrs worth – on our external harddrive. It was this huge thing. And of course it’s like putting all your eggs in one basket. Granted. But what do I do with the basket? Drop it. I was backing up my own hard drive, due to a few recent encounters with the BSOD, and after several hours finally had the backup process running as it was supposed to. And then I moved my computer abruptly and the attached USB cable yanked the harddrive off the table. It fell maybe 2 1/2 feet? And I was all, uh-oh. I hope it didn’t… But oh yes, it did. Break. It was all clicking and whirring and the backup process stopped. Completely unrecoverable. I’ll never live it down.
Anyway. I can’t talk about it anymore.
And I don’t know how to exorcise the images of ticks from my mind. They haunt me. Like the one on Bailey’s ear this morning. Sickly gray. Like an old raisin. And when I pulled it off, its tiny little legs had the nerve to continue writhing before I dropped it in the uber-creepy jar of alcohol that contains all the ticks. We have a tick jar. Ugh. Shudder. Vom.
I can’t talk about that anymore either.
The Amish Market was on our horizon today and I procured some randoms. Electric blue gummy sharks. Chocolate-covered pretzels. Tarragon, star anise – herbs I can either never find or have the mind to purchase. Those were cheap. Also, Dr. Hess’ Udder Something or Other? For my cuticles, because I’m determined to love them once again. Also, we might have had ice cream while sitting on rockers. And I’m trying out the bread (cin raisin), but skipped the mysterious Bible granola bars due to their being more than $13 for a box of six. I mean honestly. I’m more likely to try the cure-all one of these days because it contains more intrigue-per-ounce.
And I just don’t know about this imaginary job anymore. I know I talk about it all the time but really. I feel like it’s them more than me and I’m kind of tired of the energy I’m wasting even contemplating it. The fifty bucks for 3 posts was nice, but I’m not sure I want to do the math on how much I actually earned per hour. For resume padding. When in the meantime I do actually have a fulltime job that suffers while I’m earning dirt. Should I just quit or keep dragging it out. Please advise.
I did cook Bun bo nuong this week – a.k.a. a Vietnamese noodle bowl with beef. Oh and also patty melts. Yum.
But otherwise, I haven’t vacuumed. Or crocheted. I only mowed half the lawn. Like a jackass, I can’t seem to get the mower to start back up. I’ve planted some seeds in questionable areas of the yard and really have no expectations that they’ll grow. I’ve claimed to know what I was doing while semi-butchering the shrubs. My magazines remain unread, basement boxes unpacked, kidsclothes unsorted for size. Banana bread never made.
It’s a week that started with a glimmer of joy but is ending with the whir of spinning wheels.
I look forward to your tale of the spa,