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Laughter and angst

I began reading this post from Alice Bradley while sitting in the waiting room as my car got its checkup, but had to stop because I was laughing so hard, tears were threatening to stream down my cheeks. I thought that maybe I had gotten to the point where things that weren’t funny were striking me as funny because I’m so far gone, but nope. I just read the post again and couldn’t stop giggling.

Reading and Laughing! I haven’t seen you guys around here in a while.

I set up a birdfeeder above my balcony, for my enjoyment and for Frank to be tormented and for the downstairs neighbors to blow cigarette smoke into. It’s been a hotspot this morning, which has made both Frank and me happy. For a while, Frank just kept chirping at the birdfeeder once the birds had left, and I was scouring the trees for these mystery birds but couldn’t see them. Then Frank decided to lie down and rest his eyes. The sweet little birds came back to the feeder, so I whispered, “Frank! FRAAAANK! Birds!” and vigorously pointed at the feeder. Frank just stared at my hands, looking confused, as if to say, Why are you throwing your hands up in the air and waving them ’round like you just don’t care? Sometimes I wonder about that cat.

Speaking of that cat, I’m eagerly awaiting the arrival of my Furminator order. I’ve been finding cat hair in my hard hat and coffee mug at work. This has gotten out of control. Thankfully, he LOVES to be brushed, but no amount of brushing lessens the insane amount of fur that cat sheds. There are tumbleweeds of fur blowing across my laptop right now. Make it stop!

I think that my laptop may be on its last legs for real now. I thought it was going to die two years ago, so I’d bought a new one. Then it got its second wind, so I declared it my lab laptop, or “labtop,” if you will. The keyboard has decided to go haywire this morning, so the typing, it is taking a while. We’ll see if I can perform an exorcism on it, or if it’s done for good.

Tomorrow I’m doing a race in Portland along with 30,000+ of my closest friends. I hate big races like that. And this one is mostly uphill, which also blows. And even though there will be 30,000+ people roaming around, there’s a possibility that I’ll run into Runnerboy. And since my hand got caught between two 400 pound pieces of metal at work yesterday, my middle finger is a bit purple-y and swollen. It’s like an italicized, underlined, boldfaced, purple SCREW YOU! And might I briefly comment that it’s really difficult not to express any visual or audible evidence that your hand is stuck between two 400 pound pieces of metal. Dude, I don’t want to get written up for a safety issue. (Now, had my fingers broken when it happened, then yes, I would be talked about by all of the department directors during next week’s safety call. I may have hid a broken wrist in Kindergarten, but it’s really difficult to explain why your middle, ring, and pinkie fingers are all purple and drooping.)

It’s time to apply some tape to my t-shirt to de-cat-hair-ify before the last soccer game of the season. Go Team!

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