![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
London speed it up, Houston rocket
[The subject line's from Beyoncé's "Countdown," which is alternating with "Belle qui tiens ma vie" as song-in-residence in my head at the moment.]
We have reached peak absent-mindedness here, y'all. I used my kitchen scale to weigh a pair of boots, and then put it on the rack the boots had been on instead of its customary shelf, and it then took me another half hour to figure out that that's what I'd done.
It wasn't a wasted half-hour -- plenty of chores can be churned through during such bouts of WTF -- but lord. And it was a good evening. I went from work to the first chamber choir rehearsal of the season, and then to the pool, where I had a wide lane to myself for the first half of my workout. The water was hot right away in the shower, both before and after. I cooked the defrosting pork before it went bad, and the slightly slimy mushrooms on sale didn't give me gut trouble, and they both went well with the tapioca noodles I'd boiled earlier this week (not noodley enough to serve to anyone else, but good enough for porridge). I wrote postcards to voters and paid some bills and ran a load of laundry. I'm doing some filing as I wind down with my second glass of Evolúció, a Hungarian white wine. I heard from several people I miss. The puniest of my cacti is still alive. And, hey, so am I.
We have reached peak absent-mindedness here, y'all. I used my kitchen scale to weigh a pair of boots, and then put it on the rack the boots had been on instead of its customary shelf, and it then took me another half hour to figure out that that's what I'd done.
It wasn't a wasted half-hour -- plenty of chores can be churned through during such bouts of WTF -- but lord. And it was a good evening. I went from work to the first chamber choir rehearsal of the season, and then to the pool, where I had a wide lane to myself for the first half of my workout. The water was hot right away in the shower, both before and after. I cooked the defrosting pork before it went bad, and the slightly slimy mushrooms on sale didn't give me gut trouble, and they both went well with the tapioca noodles I'd boiled earlier this week (not noodley enough to serve to anyone else, but good enough for porridge). I wrote postcards to voters and paid some bills and ran a load of laundry. I'm doing some filing as I wind down with my second glass of Evolúció, a Hungarian white wine. I heard from several people I miss. The puniest of my cacti is still alive. And, hey, so am I.