Friday,
January 9, 2004
It's Friday!!!
And
it's sunny! And we're supposed to have nice but not unseasonably hot temps this
weekend! And for reasons I don't understand I feel remarkably perky (tired,
because I had to sleep on the couch again last night for support reasons, but
still perky. Weird).
Seriously, though, it IS weird. Under normal conditions I should be snarling at people and willing to maim for an hour's nap. Instead, I've got Dave Matthews on the CD player, I've bulled through two projects so far and am about to start on a third, I feel remarkably good about everything, and I'm going to try and finish a short story tonight in time for FutureClassics next week, not to mention add another chapter or so to PHARAOH.
Admittedly, I'd really like to have some caffeine right now, but the lack of it isn't sending me into a grumpy spiral. Maybe aliens transversed my brain when I wasn't looking. Or maybe I should go on liquid diets more often, I dunno.
OH! I also noticed that my teeth seem to be much whiter than usual. I'm not sure if that's from the liquid diet since Tuesday, or from the fact that I haven't been drinking any pop this week due to being too po' to afford it. Whatever the reason, I have to admit that it's rather nice.
Oh, and a new ep of Stargate: SG-1 is on tonight, as well! My cup, she runneth over.
Why it's good to have a Bodacious Brit
We
were in the bedroom, as you do, talking about some of Lyndon's job possibilities,
when he starts stripping off in preparation for a shower. By this point I'm
stretched out on the bed with my glasses off because I'm bloody tired, idly
enjoying the somewhat out of focus show as he paces around the room in the buff
and talks about some cool job leads.
Being, well, me, I comment favorably on said show as he strides into the connected bathroom. Pleased, he strikes a heroic pose for me, fists planted on hips in a "Peter Pan" sort of way.
Which would have been quite nice, if I was still wearing my glasses. "I appreciate the effort, sweetie, but from this distance all I can see is a blob of pink, with some brown on the top," I explain, then realize the statement isn't quite accurate. "Well, some brown on the top and in the middle, too."
He peers downwards. "You know, Mel, I'd be much happier if you'd mention more pink amongst the brown, as it were," he quips.
Men, I swear. "Now, dear, your penis is perfectly visible from this distance, even with my glasses off," I reassure him as he steps into the tub. "Does that make you feel any better?"
He pulls back the shower curtain and grins. "To quote Gus Grissom, 'fucking A, bubba,'" sayeth he.
Hee.