At least the paperweight is warm. Or was, when this was taken. We seem to have Return of the Son of Polar Vortex going on here – Polar Vortex: The Coldening! – and since I’m tired and filled with self loathing and a vague* seething anxiety anyway, I’m going to bed with all the blankets I can dig up.
*Not vague. Financial. My GOD if anyone had told me that at my advanced age I would finally understand what it means to be poor, that I would be making less money than I had made since I was in COLLEGE than I would have. . . um, I don’t know. Shot the messenger? Laughed in disbelief? Changed my fucking career path into something that might a) last and b) be remunerative? Or the most likely scenario, failed to believe it and continued on my merry, merry way. ARGH. If anyone can come up with a quick way to make $1500 – what it will take to fix the clutch, the boiler, the oven and my teeth with a little left over for a goddamn haircut because I really really need one – do let me know.