Mortaine’s Blog

Since when did Thursday turn into Monday?

Spilled coffee all over my pants today in the car. I threw water on it, cause I was driving and didn’t want it to set during the 20 minutes it would take till I got to work. Realized as I got to work that it wasn’t just a little spill– all over the cuff. These pants already had a couple of more discreet stains– now they’re ruined.

So now I need to get new beige pants. Or beige fabric to make pants out of this weekend, perhaps. Or hem the other beige pants I have (I wonder if they fit? Probably not.)

And, your monthly dose of TMI: I HATE CRAMPS!!!!!

Neil Gaiman is going to be a SJSU for a reading/signing (left my book at home, of course)/talk. I don’t know if I’m going to go– I want to, and I told Lynn I would, but now…. guh. Now I’m thinking that I’d like to go home after WW and just lie down and cry. Or just lie down, anyway.

Last night’s West Wing was replaced by some legal show that I don’t watch. WTF? It was supposed to be a new West Wing. Now I wanna know when West Wing will be on again, and I also would like to know when the new Futurama from 2 weeks ago (that got superceded by baseball) will be showing– since it’s one of the last new Futurama episodes.

Gah.

I want this day to be over. Or to just get better. Whatever.

Had a dream last night that I was in France on some sort of program. Due to an unfortunate series of circumstances, I ended up naked in Lex’s car (from Smallville– only he shifted periodically between Lex and Prince William– don’t ask), with an angry mob outside the car trying to– I don’t know what, break into it? Steal it? Extort money? I just wanted to put my clothes on and get back to flirting with Lex (I was naked when we started flirting– it was one of those rescuer dreams). After he shifted back into the prince, he was able to get much more help from the hotel staff, who now looked on this as an affront to national security.

I often have dreams where I am travelling to different places around the world. Sometimes I’m driving to some remote Russian arctic village. Sometimes I’m crossing a bridge from Evanston to Chicago, or perhaps from San Francisco to Paris. Sometimes travel is difficult– I end up tightrope-walking along a wharf until I reach my destination.

I woke up this morning with a feeling that something was terribly wrong. Aside from the most soulless baseball team making it to the World Series this year (again), and my cramps, I can’t think of what it is.