I know this makes some of you nervous, but I have a meeting right at 8:30 this Monday morning, here, which means I have to make sure I’ve said everything on this page, read it over for terrible errors that shame me, hit Publish and then copy/paste this tome to Facebook, all in the next 35 minutes.
I got up this morning thinking, OK, dash through all your things so you can blog, but then I looked up whilst doing my things and it was 10 to 8:00 already and I was all, COME ON, SERIOUSLY? And then for no logical reason I decided to try to blog from my desktop for a change, which I haven’t used in 252 days. My desktop TOLD me this. I got some sort of email.
“You haven’t used your desktop computer in 250 days,” it said, all concerned. Where was I? Was I mad? What had desktop done wrong?
I used to get up every weekday and do all my things (and you know “all my things” means feeding and pilling and letting in and out and in and out and in and out like mama’s squeezebox the pets, right?) and stampede to my desktop computer to blog. But since my surgery (did you know I had surgery?) and this inconvenient pandemic, I have used a laptop provided by my workplace for working from home. We’ve had so much more work that I’ve practically worn this poor laptop right out.
Anyway, I went to my desktop this morning, as I’ve said, but it is smack in the middle of updating something after 252 days and I was all, COME ON, SERIOUSLY? and so I had to set self up with laptop after all and here we are with
Thirty minutes exactly to write and begin said meeting.
Saturday was an absolutely glorious fall day, just the kind of fall day you want, and I had a migraine. Of course I did. It wasn’t that dreadful of one, but it was enough that I didn’t feel like doing anything so I sat outside and read a book when I could. I can’t remember the title. I got it from one of those “leave a book, take a book” little huts people have around town.
It was about a kid with CF, whose mom is a vet at a shelter. They get a dog in the shelter, a large unattractive one, that the kid can sort of read psychically. He can feel what the dog is feeling.
Anyway it was good and I never want to have cystic fibrosis and of all the things I fear I think I can cross that one off the list. I would, however, like to be able to communicate psychically with animals. That would make my life complete, if I could do that. I could head off to the zoo and be all, “Yes. Excuse me. The kinkajou is irritated by the strange-tailed tyrant. Can you move them apart?”
My plan was I’d feel better Sunday and could live my life (meaning go somewhere with my mask on) and then Sunday got here and it was cold and rainy and I said goddammit. I ended up on one of my drives to nowhere, though, and got some frozen custard with my mask on. I’m like a custard superhero.
Are there any just heroes anymore or is everything “super” now, like how there are no more just plain models? If everyone’s a supermodel, no one’s a supermodel.
Also what happened this weekend is my blog. I got an email from the fine folks at WordPress, who say my membership or something is up for renewal, and they tried to just take $300 out of my checking account, but for some mysterious reason it didn’t work. It didn’t “go through,” is I think how they put it.
I’m genuinely curious. Do you just have $300 in your checking account if it’s not right after payday? Because I don’t.
I talked about this on Facebook of June this weekend, and some of you said, “We’ll give you tips, June, so you can renew” and I said, “Hang on. Let me just see what else is out there before you do.”
So I did. And if I took all my blog posts from 2007 till now, which is what I’d want to do, I’d end up spending money anyway to do that because I’d have to hire someone to help me design a new blog. Plus then everyone would have to go to a NEW, FOURTH place. I’ve already gone from blogger to Typepad to here. And if I downgraded to just regular cheaper WordPress, I couldn’t have all my old pictures, nor could I put up new pictures. I’d be out of room.
The problem is I’m big and bulky. I’m almost 14 years old! My first day of blogging was December 15, 2006. Which by the way is right about when Pioneer Woman began blogging and you can see we have a similar trajectory.
I do have to say I just adore my two Pioneer Woman pans. I really do. See how mature I am?
So I think I will put up a tip jar here. If I don’t raise $300 to renew my blog for the year, I’ll figure something else out at that time. If I do, we’ll keep going here with all this riveting material, especially today.
Let me know if that link doesn’t work. There’s also a tip jar link on the right side of this page. And for heaven’s sake, if you can’t afford it, don’t do it! Don’t tip! Just you reading all this nonsense is enough for me.
Oh, crap. While we’ve been talking, I got a “ping!” and it was that same message from WordPress that I got over the weekend. And then I heard my text ping and I was all, OHMYGODWHAT and it was my credit union thinking it’s fishy that a company is trying to take $300 from me.
Which by the way is nice of them but OHMYGOD I do NOT have $300 to my name right now and now I am tense and they’d better not overdraw my account.
It also makes me tense that their text ended in a comma and not a period, but I will not fret about that now.
OK. Talk to you tomorrow. In case you’re worried, it’s only 8:23, so I have plenty of time to hit Publish. Here’s a photo of Iris as consolation because this was an extra-boring post.
Look how the ottoman/coffee table is ruined. THANKS, MILHOUS.