Sunday night

Mood: Tired. Oh so tired
Hair: Braid again, but it's falling apart. I look and feel slovenly.

I had an English teacher in high school whose last name was Sloven. She was very nice, a decent teacher, but I had a lot of trouble with her name. I doubt anyone else at my high school made any connection with her name and anything else. sigh

But that's not where I was headed at all. What did I do all day?
<[OCD ALERT]>
I spent, quite literally, 11 hours typing up charts and lists of "Possibilities while in England." That's the generic term. Most have prosaic titles like "Lonely Planet England 2004" and "Rick Steves London 2004," or "Lincoln Accom." and "Durham Eats" (which is entirely different from "Durham Bites"--my memory is that it doesn't. If things have changed, I'll be sure to title that blog entry appropriately).

E. Lev. En. Hours.

I petted the guinea pigs for awhile, ate pizza, played poker with the kid, watched another storm roll in (and around us)...but mostly I typed.

I did this every night this week, for at least 2 hours.

I'm insane.

And sad. And this busy-work keeps my mind from dwelling too heavily on heavy things. Especially if I have the TV on. Last night while I was doing the London Hotels file, we were flipping back and forth between Godzilla v. MechaGodzilla and Ghostbusters. I think they are the same movie; and I think Bill Murray's in both of them (at least doing voiceovers).

But see, now I'm dwelling on things. And I'm getting sad. So I need to go get a glass of wine and turn the TV back on and get tired enough to fall asleep immediately after I hit the sheets.

If you have kids, hug them. If you don't, find another kid who needs a hug.