An almost pleasant day

It started well if you ignore the bad sleep. (It remained warm until at least 5 AM and then fell rapidly after that). Rocket is using his box again so he comes in covered in paper shreds and is never too keep about me getting them off him. He's fine if you brush his face or even his belly. Death to anyone touching his backside. Guess where all the paper is.

I went to Jackson to work out and get all those library books. You should have seen the librarian's face when she saw how BIG these books are. But of course they are. I got my coffee (chocolate strawberry mocha)and saw one of my better students from a last year there (and my doctor at the Y)

I decided to get Rowdy's for dinner (Brisket yum) and got my bingo dauber. Brought that home and said okay let's try that Hotheads Hacienda place because it's needed to get bingo and I wanted to see it. ELD warned me. It's all spicy. I'm okay with some spice. It's like Qdoba/Chipolte. Most has rice. I can't have rice. They suggested a quesadilla with queso. Little did I know that queso was 1.50 more.

So I paid the same thing for some fucking shredded cheese and a tasteless cheese sauce as I did for a half pound of brisket on a bun. That seems wrong doesn't it? And frankly it looked awful. It reminded me of Subways as well. Build your own food out of this nonsense just lying there on warmers.

I came home and got a big two-tiered gift from Mom for Valentine's Day. Harry & David pears and some sweets. Nice.

Then it was the Abney Park afternoon concert and he got a new microphone (looks like he built it from a newel post steampunked out) which REALLY improved the sound quality. The old one looked cool but man the quality hadn't been great. This was so much fun.

No more than a half hour after that the GI upset started with the rumblies. I'm not saying it was Hotheads but I'm also not saying it's not. I'm still a little blah. Peeved intestines aside it's been a decent day.

Also I'm still really struggling to figure out what to do for a vacation. I'm THIS close to saying fuck it and going on the work con (which is often my vacation. I just explore wherever it is) but it's in Florida and in a boring part of it none the less. SIGH.

And that realtor is really happy to have me as a client. I'm like um...yeah chill already. 1. you're ignoring the area I told you (it's like a good 40-50 miles from work that she's sending me) 2. you didn't even ask me what I wanted or my price range 3. Yeah no I'm not using YOUR mortage guy. Call me suspicious