I feel like I've actually used that as a blog title before, but frankly I'm too lazy to go look for it. Oh well. Let's just pretend it's the first time, k?
So let me just state -- again -- for the record -- that getting back into regular blog posting is hard. There's a build-up of all these things I thought about writing but then didn't, and it's kind of weird to start writing about that funny thing that happened that time four months ago.
But I think it'd be even weirder to write about random serious things from out of nowhere.
Thus, I have no idea what I'll be posting about, but I will be posting. Hurrah.
* * *
My apartment, for what it's worth, looks like a cyclone came through it. There isn't a single clean surface anywhere, which isn't maybe all that shocking, but looking at the mess just exhausts me. I have no motivation to clean. Instead, I just randomly straighten the one corner of my desk that wasn't messy in the first place, and then go sleep at Pete's.
I don't think my cats mind when the apartment is messy. In fact, they use the clutter -- magazine stacks and clothes piles and un-put-away suitcases and un-torn-down boxes -- as makeshift beds and hideouts. I sort of think that cats are zen enough as is, you know? What the hell do they need feng shui for?
I am mostly decompressed from the last few months of my life, wherein every moment of my consciousness was (at least in part) devoted to the conference.
I say "mostly" though because just last Friday night, I woke Pete up to yell at him about where he'd put the name badges. WHERE ARE THEY? WHERE DID YOU PUT THEM?
I accosted him in the middle of the night about this, while I was both panicked and unconscious, which is a fantastically sexy combination let me tell you.
When he then got kind of uppity with me (the nerve!), and insisted that he did not have them and I was forced to consider this, I woke up.
Me, blinking into the darkness: Was I dreaming?
Pete, grumpily: Yes.
Me: Was I talking to you?
Pete: You were yelling at me about name badges.
Me: Oh. Sorry!
So no, not entirely decompressed, then.
A week before the conference I woke Pete up very similarly, demanding to know about the sponsor fees. He was no help then, either.