Okay, so I woke up this morning and said, "Hey! Let's change this puppy around a bit!"

Gotta love style sheets. They make doing this so easy.

we've gotta hold on to what we've got
doesn't make a difference if we make it or not… *insert jon bon jovi yowlin' here*

Y'know, it's moments like these that I almost miss the 1980s. It's something about the big hair and guys in nicely frayed jeans and…oh, wait, this is more than you wanted to know, isn't it?moving on:

I think perhaps yesterday just wasn't a day to write. Then again, yesterday was just an odd day in general—eight hours' worth of busywork at my company with no real pressing things to get done. I've been trying to work on a logging script so that I can better analyze the hits I'm getting on domesticat, but the script kept bombing out on me. By the time I fled my cube and drove home, I was annoyed, aggravated, and had a pounding headache.Luckily, the spousal unit was preparing dinner. That gave me a chance to take an aspirin, grab the nearest willing cat (last night's volunteer for Onerous Petting Duty was Tenzing—brutal life, isn't it?) and flop on the couch for a while until I was back to my normal goofy, chipper self. The cat was gratified by the petting (there was much shameless purring and tail-thumping), I was gratified by the dinner and the release from my headache, and thus I got a load of laundry done instead of just sitting on my ass all evening.