I woke up this morning, turned off the alarm . . . and suddenly it was over half an hour later and my mom was knocking on my bedroom door to make sure I was alive. So I jumped out of bed, took a hurried shower, had difficulty with my contact lenses (of course), and dried my hair just enough to be inadequately dry and weirdly wavy. When I got out the door (after having to run upstairs a few times to grab things that I forgot), I discovered a dent in the driver's side door of my car. It's a dent of the variety that one finds when someone has opened his own car door with slightly too much force, but it's a large dent for that sort. Man, that's irritating. I'm always so careful, but there's nothing I can do to prevent other people from being . . . people. Sigh.
I'm amazed that I managed to drive to work without incident.
So now I'm here and I'm drinking my coffee and I'm about to put on a Rufus Wainwright CD and do a massive bout of data entry.
Maybe later I'll enlighten you on Erica's conception of the ice cream truck purchases of the Fellowship.