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Grr. Argh. Braaaainsss. - Diary of a Necromancer
Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up
Grr. Argh. Braaaainsss.
T minus 16 hours to movers and Cousin-with-Truck has finally turned up, revealing that as one might predict from knowing anyone in this family, she was also at IKEA at the appointed time on Tuesday, but the book with Mum's cel# was sitting beside the phone at home. Why neither of us thought to try to have the other paged, Idunno. So the matter of hauling away the dollhouse is apparently settled once again, although it would have been so much nicer to have had the volume of space it occupies free to stack boxes into over the last few days. Mum now running about frantically stuffing random things into any boxes that don't run away fast enough.

For myself, I blew this last full day in the Craphole by going out to the big yarn trade-show in Rosemont, because one simply cannot miss big yarn trade-shows even if it means cramming it into an already impossible schedule. And I would like to know, just on general principles, why must it take longer to get from Morse to Rosemont on the El than it does to drive up to Milwaukee...? Thoroughly exhausted, and rather nonplussed by the additional hassle of Body having gotten confused about the dress-rehearsal for "Moving Insanity Theater" and turning up prepared to read from "When Boobies Attack" instead. Yes, I know it's almost inevitable that the plumbing would think it was being witty, but damn, I already had a backache. Need sleep, not going to get much...

feeling: exhausted zombified

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