Dear future self,

[azurelunatic]

That pile of clothing near desk is a start, not actual expected outfit.

I scheduled the landrover. Laundryhappens. Machine. Wash. It.

Grilled cheese breakfast okay worth you I how.pe.

Stupid fucking webex fuck

Stores fucking database fuck. spouted. Stupid.,

80s houses of sleep of we shortstop now. See you sty disc lovely. 6am.

Comments

[vass]

Cannot wait to see what your future self makes of this.

[azurelunatic]

The pile of clothing on the floor near my desk actually contains something I can wear, not just underwear as I'd feared.

I don't need to start the launderizer now, because I already started it on the timer last night.

Sourdough and cheddar grilled cheese is tasty, and cheaper than McDonald's.

I have two meetings that I should leave promptly to get to: one on the proper use of WebEx (via, ironically, WebEx), and one with the Junior Researcher on what the *fuck* the internal-facing devs have done to the motherfucking database that I (and basically only I) have to use.

If I got to sleep right then, I would have had 8 hours of sleep. I got to sleep about a half-hour later, and then had stress dreams about meeting rooms and conference calls through the second half of the sleep.

[pauamma]

I wondered about that too.