My TV stopped working, and so I read five books in 24 hours, then the cable guy came to my house and waved his hands at my TV and now it works again.

So that happened.

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I have been watching the Dragon Ball Z Kai and I realized that I would totally do Christopher Sabat on condition that he read stuff to me. Nothing in particular. The dictionary. A phone book. Whatever.

I love that guy’s voice. It’s crazy hot.

Yes, you heard me. I think some guy’s voice is super hot. This may very well be part of the reason why I am single.

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I got my new bag yesterday, took it out for a spin and had to fight people off with a stick. THAT’S how cool my bag is. But Tammie is gonna send me some business cards to pass out, because there are only so many times in a day that I can say Swedish Stitcher.

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There is a candy called Baby Bottle Pop.

I don’t get it.

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And now you will have to excuse me, since Tim insists on texting me about bank robbery. I don’t think he’d be very good at that. The bank robbery, I mean. He’s quite good at the texting, at least if you judge such things by volume.

So I finally did my paperwork today. I suffer from serious procrastination and am the despair of the Northwest Kidney Centers Accounting Department. This particular paperwork was for last month. It’s a miracle they don’t send out a hit squad.

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I appreciate the many offers of baked goods, but I need to confess that, when I post shit to the internets, I don’t REALLY expect people to appease me.  I just don’t really ever think about the consequences of my actions, mostly because I have the attention span of a squirrel on meth but also because I never remember that the seven awesome people that are my loyal readers tend to want me to have whatever I want. You guys spoil me.You have ruined me for all other readers.

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My awesome handmade Swedish Stitcher bag is arriving on Monday. I AM SO EXCITED. My friend Tammie makes these lovely bags, each more a usable work of art than a mere accessory, and my bag is finally coming.

It initially was absconded with by the Post Office. Those bastards wrecked the strap, but Tammie got it back and fixed it and dudes, I am so looking forward to this bag, my head may very well implode.

There will be pictures, oh yes.

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I would like to wish Chris Walton a very happy birthday. Hey, cool guy. I like you.

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So, I am selling most all of my books this week. My entire Terry Pratchett collection and all. I realized the other day that I really only read shit on the Kindle that you guys got me. It’s just too hard to hold onto a regular paperback, much less a hardcover, and if I can’t read them, why do I have them? Just to have? THAT, my friends, is the mindset that led me to keeping giant pots of dirt in my cupboards, and I refuse to repeat THAT little object lesson on letting go.

Plus, the money is needed. Isn’t it always?

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OK, NAPTIME. Woot.

So, things that are awesome:

Big Time Rush. I LOVE THESE GUYS. No, really, I watch every episode and have downloaded and PAID FOR their songs. LOVE THEM.

Flashpoint, Haven and Warehouse 13: If you aren’t watching these shows, then I have no idea what you are doing with your free time. Seriously.

Cupcakes. Like very small versions of awesome. You know, foreigners sometimes call them fairy cakes. Silly foreigners.

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In other news, I had to defer my annual boob squishing in order to have my tri monthly migraine.

I feel better now.

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Hex Bug Nano. My worst nightmare, turned into a child’s toy.

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OK, I’m gonna go stare at the oven, in the hopes of a baked goods miracle.

So I’m pretty angry, in a kind of general way, but I am trying hard not to take it out on anyone because I have a feeling that I’m just on the rag and not feeling good.

Surprisingly, that knowledge does not make me any less stabby.

Fortunately, I am pretty much caught up on housework and whatnot, so I can go to sleep early. And I need to be plenty rested for tomorrow’s boob squishing.

I’ll totally let you know how that goes.

So, it turns out that when you mistakenly take your nighttime meds at 8AM, what happens is you spend all day sleeping on the couch with a cat on you and then have to take even more drugs so that you sort of kind of sleep all night, even though you eventually get out of bed at 5:30 AM because you just can’t stand it anymore and one of your evil geriatric cats insists on standing on your face and howling in the hopes you will have completely lost your entire mind and will feed her.

That cat, by the way, is shit out of luck.

So I got a lot done today despite my best intentions, because there is really no way to avoid accomplishing things when you get out of bed at 5:30.