It's not how long you wait, it's who you're waiting for
I spent last night from one to eight in the morning with a migraine. It was very bad. (Ironically, it was National Coffee Day.)
Then I woke up and was told Tony Curtis had died. (So has Gloria Stuart, but it's hard to argue with a hundred.)
At least I got my passport photos taken yesterday, before I looked like someone tried to kill me through my eyesockets. I am firing what's left of September.
Then I woke up and was told Tony Curtis had died. (So has Gloria Stuart, but it's hard to argue with a hundred.)
At least I got my passport photos taken yesterday, before I looked like someone tried to kill me through my eyesockets. I am firing what's left of September.
no subject
She is one of the reasons I do not want all of my life back from the three-and-change hours it took me to watch Titanic. (Victor Garber and the actual ship-sinking are the others.) But if the whole film had been simply her telling Rose's story, I'd probably have gone back to the theater twice.
Everyone in the office here is being laid low by the same horrid sinus thing.
Ergh. Please do not catch it. Or if I'm too late for that, may it at least bugger off soon.
I am, likewise, well finished with September.
Well, it's October now!