Pirate-y

I'm surfing in uncharted waters this evening. I'd much rather be on my paid-for Internet service, but my computer is in a coma and my work laptop refuses to be hardwired. (Which is ironic, because it doesn't refuse to be on a neighbor's unsecured wireless. I don't get it.)

It's been one of those days. Left work after five, ran a few errands, ate a half-meal, milongaed ... milonga'd? -- danced myself sweaty, then made a late-night run to the grocery store (still sweaty and smelly, mind you). Now I bake cupcakes, wrap some gifts, clean my living room -- and surf the net on borrowed time.

In theory, this computer crash will make my next few days more productive.

It's a great theory.

In truth, I have no more concentration here than I've had at work this week. Too many things to think about; too many things I should be thinking about that are getting left out.

And nothing of interest to say.

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