* This month, I ignored the PMS Buddy e-mail as per my usual, and am living to regret that, as usual. I really need to come up with a better coping strategy for this few days each month; being blindsided by nightmares, niggling worries, and the feeling that everybody hates me is the pits.
* PANTRY MOTHS. PANTRY MOTHS. OMFG PANTRY MOTHS! I woke to find that the frost had ripened some tomatoes early, and threw some into a saucepan with the last of the basil and some oregano and onion and a little lemon pepper, and then I went to get some quinoa to put in it and PANTRY MOTHS!
* Hotter has suggested that we empty out the cabinets, line them with newspaper, smuggle the hens in from Squatter Workshop, and shut them in until they've eaten every last moth and larva. I think that'd be a capital idea if not for a) hens being accomplished shitters who would laugh at newspaper and b) our hens being cagey enough to probably realize the pantry moths are the benevolent deities that have gifted them with an entire box of organic quinoa and half a box of orzo just today and worship them instead of eating the fuckers.
* The tomato stew was delicious with just some feta crumbled in, and I probably didn't need the carbs anyway. Grumble, grumble.
* Someone popular at one of my jobs is being kind of a bully, in a "pick on MFA Mama and call her an airhead and ridicule her intellect" kind of way, and it sucks. I think I'm just going to try calling them out with honesty and maybe saying something like "hey I've noticed our exchanges have taken on kind of an unpleasant mocking undertone lately, and I'm not really that nasty of a person and you aren't either so can we maybe try and be a little more positive with each other?" The problem with that though is that it kind of makes me want to steal my OWN lunch money and call myself a hippie. We'll see I guess. At least this year it's someone being mean with their words and not actually threatening to cut me, so, you know. Better off, indeed! And yes, this person is aware that I have Actual ADD, but the problem with ADD is that it's kind of like telling people you have an automatic whoopie cushion built into your ass. Sure, they might ACT understanding, and eventually you'll sit down and they'll snicker, and hell, you might too, because fart-sounds are funny. But oh boy, just wait'll you do it in front of COMPANY sometime, then NOBODY wants to know you! Sigh.
* Isis needs her claws cut and we're both trying to pretend she doesn't. She's pretty good about it, but not quite so good as to hold still without some help, so Hotter has to dangle her clasped to his chest, curled like a big awkward grub. It's nobody's favorite thing. I'm thinking maybe she'll suffer that indignity, and then I'll suffer some fucking exercise walking her to dull the edges. Ready...GO!