Damn You, Bloggovia!!!

This is all your fault. All of you. Every last bleedin' rat-infested one of you.



I walked down the stairs this afternoon (hey, I'm DEPRESSED, okay? Jeez. Like none of you have ever stayed in bed til 1:30 PM.) and, after all that sleep, was ready for a fairly-productive day. I had already cleaned out the tiling debris, which had been sitting in a corner of the bathroom waiting patiently for the never-gonna-happen return of Bob the Plumber; thrown away a huge sack of trash from that endeavor; and even put on The Work Clothes--one of my rattier t-shirts and the Pair of Jeans With The Gaping Thigh-Hole. (Stop laughing. Now. I mean it.)



And I gathered up the giant basket of laundry, waddled it down the stairs (it's really heavy) and walked through the living room toward the kitchen, where the basement awaited my attention.



Unfortunately, that entailed walking past the computer.



That was now almost three hours ago.



Damn you, Bloggovia!!!



On the plus side: check my Blogroll for a few new additions...oh, and TV Without Pity has a t-shirt with my favorite Amazing Race quote of all time, ever! I also had a minor breakthrough, which I will catalog later tonight after I do all the other stuff I have to get done--Mom's letter to the airlines about her noisy plane ride, my complaint about Bob the Plumber for the Illinois Attorney General, and my room-by-room Project Breakdown for the renevation, top to bottom, of The Catastrophe. (This is what comes of watching the series finale of _The Complex: Malibu_, which was a crappy show but oddly inspiring.)



Now I need some wings. There's nothing to eat in this house.