So I am here, in my orange kitchen (it's Friday) and I have sent off what I needed to, and have loads of other things to do, but, yes, I just don't feel like it. It's hot. I think it's that one, final, stinking hot day, before everything starts to turn, well, Autumn. I want to go out and play under the sprinkler with the Big Black Dog, but I must work. This grown-up-work thing is for the birds.
Oh, yes, I'm working old-style. On a desk-top computer. With a box and everything. It feels wierd. I did find a tiny solderer but he can only see my LLL on Monday, so The BFF set up his spare computer (some people have spare computers, can you believe?) just here, on my kitchen table (while we ate waffles, of course).
It's very cute, as desk-tops go, it's just that it seems so big and bulky. Oh, how easily we become accustomed to things. And you should've seen the tantrum I threw not being able to connect to the internet this morning! Scary.
Work? Play? Work? Play?
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2 comments:
I'd get worried if you were working on a typewriter... now thats's old school!
And work because then you can play guilt free!!!
Go shiny go!
play. always play....
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