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Tea & Sympathy
Dec. 3rd, 2003 09:32 am*sigh* All that work into tweaking the new paid-for page and all I get is "Ow! So purple! My eyes!" Wow. My journal's so bright, you gotta wear shades. ^_^
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cholten99 read my LJ and took a few minutes out of his busy, Buffy-bound schedule to ring me up and tell me he missed me too. ^_^ That was nice.
Mad-as-a-fish has invited me into a Trekkie RPG; apparently there's still need for an engineer on board the Intrepid. I'm going to wind up playing characters far geekier than I am for the rest of my life, aren't I? Jeeeeeeez. But still, it'll be fun.
Of course, between these two bits of niceness is some not-so-niceness. I was preparing dinner last night and had a little accident with a potato peeler. Well, I say little... There's a gouge in my left index finger about 5mm by 3mm by 1mm. Yeah, it's deep enough to be measured on a ruler. It's right near the tip, gets pressed when I type, and it is not nice.
The person I would most have liked to talk to was, of course, my boyfriend. Fine, he was at Buffy but I could have at least left a message on his home phone. Sympathy is a good thing. But of course, I couldn't do that because that would have meant asking for something, however indirectly, and that's not something I actually do willingly. So I just stuck a plaster over it and carried on with my life.
Mum rang a few hours later and I told her about it. You'd think that telling your mother that you've gouged a deep hole in your finger that's still bleeding some three hours later would guarantee you at least "Oh, poor you!" What I actually got was "Do you have plasters?" And when I told her I was considering taking a sick day to let it heal properly, she reacted like I was considering committing a major felony. So much for sympathy.
So now I'm here and typing hurts. But there's not much to do, and if I play my cards right I might be able to get out after lunch. Or not -- I mean, if I can stick it out through the morning, it can't get any worse, right?
Thess
cholten99 read my LJ and took a few minutes out of his busy, Buffy-bound schedule to ring me up and tell me he missed me too. ^_^ That was nice.Mad-as-a-fish has invited me into a Trekkie RPG; apparently there's still need for an engineer on board the Intrepid. I'm going to wind up playing characters far geekier than I am for the rest of my life, aren't I? Jeeeeeeez. But still, it'll be fun.
Of course, between these two bits of niceness is some not-so-niceness. I was preparing dinner last night and had a little accident with a potato peeler. Well, I say little... There's a gouge in my left index finger about 5mm by 3mm by 1mm. Yeah, it's deep enough to be measured on a ruler. It's right near the tip, gets pressed when I type, and it is not nice.
The person I would most have liked to talk to was, of course, my boyfriend. Fine, he was at Buffy but I could have at least left a message on his home phone. Sympathy is a good thing. But of course, I couldn't do that because that would have meant asking for something, however indirectly, and that's not something I actually do willingly. So I just stuck a plaster over it and carried on with my life.
Mum rang a few hours later and I told her about it. You'd think that telling your mother that you've gouged a deep hole in your finger that's still bleeding some three hours later would guarantee you at least "Oh, poor you!" What I actually got was "Do you have plasters?" And when I told her I was considering taking a sick day to let it heal properly, she reacted like I was considering committing a major felony. So much for sympathy.
So now I'm here and typing hurts. But there's not much to do, and if I play my cards right I might be able to get out after lunch. Or not -- I mean, if I can stick it out through the morning, it can't get any worse, right?
Thess
