palace of winds

I’m frustrated today. Just in general. My perception is heavily skewed. Everything that isn’t perfect is the end of the world. Thank god it’s not the crying week.

And mercifully it’s Friday. I don’t think I could take another day right now. Well — no. I know I could. I just really, really, really don’t want to.

I have a new oven. It’s very brightly and shinily white, and produces all sorts of strange new-appliance sounds and smells. I sort of miss my old burners, though. The flame on this one is crisp and bright and precise (and easier to control, which I like very much), but the old one had this wild thing going on, all soft unpredictable edges. It was taller too — it liked to lick kettles and pots and things. The new flame seems very well-behaved, from what I can tell after a few uses. Not nearly so forward.

No, I have not taken pictures. Have you?

And that is all from me for now. Though I had planned to start the evening off well by sanding and polyurethane-ing the shelving one last time, I am instead going to clear just enough things from the love seat that I can sit on it, and I am going to get out my book, and I am going to read it until I’m finished.

And aww, Jo just called. I begged off doing anything tonight as I’m exhausted, but I’m half sorry because seeing her always does wonders for my mood. The idea of having anyone over while the apartment looks like this, however, is terrifying. So I’m too grumpy to knuckle down and really tackle it, and can’t have anyone over or feel good about going out because it hasn’t been done. Wash, rinse, repeat.