Stunned

Boy got full-time job.
Girl got promotion. This has been
A very weird day.

The other white meat

The other bad thing about getting a second job (other than the fact that yesterday I had to turn down my dream part-time job since I'm working extra hours for money, not for fun) is the lack of gym time. I haven't been in two weeks. Today I stuffed myself into my skinny jeans with such force that my sternum nearly caved in with the effort of securing the button. But I knew it was time for a skinny jeans intervention, pleasant or not, because next time I might have crumbled my guts into powder and still not got the button closed. But now I'm actually wearing them, sitting down, and vowing to get my behind out of bed at 5:30 a.m. to go to spinning class. Goal: to weigh what I did when I moved here 9 months ago, landlord and money stress and lack of time be hanged.

Illustrations

My leaky ceiling in my spare room in July:

My leaky ceiling in my spare room today, a month later, after they swear they've fixed the roof:



The collection of bowls on my spare bed (observe how freaking full they are) after two days of rain:


(Note that my parents are supposed to be here this weekend and theoretically sleep in this bed. . .)

My leaky ceiling in my bathroom today, after the landlord has, again, sworn the roof was fixed:


And as an afterthought, a fair isle bag I made my mother for her birthday. I took a pre-felting picture with a sheet of paper for perspective, then felted it at 2 a.m. sometime last month and gave it to her without taking an after picture. Note this is the same bed as the leak; maybe if I'd gone to sleep during a rainstorm it would have been felted by the time I woke up.



Any suggestions? I'm thinking lawsuit at this point, but I really don't have the energy.

Pop quiz

Rumors of my death have been slightly exaggerated.