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Monday, Feb. 17, 2003 / 4:06 p.m. ~Wishing We Had Some of That Snow, But Glad to Have Some Time~ Last night I went to bed late. I�d slept late yesterday afternoon and knew I�d never be able to get to bed on time, and really didn�t care, but just as I got in bed I had this mad urge to peruse all my cookbooks, look up recipes for wonderful foods, make long shopping lists of ingredients, etc. I was pulling books off my bedroom bookcase (one of the bookcases, anyway), drooling over the photos, planning in my head, imagining cooking, until I made myself stop. I turned on �The Godfather� and closed my eyes to sleep. I would�ve liked to stay up and watch it, as I haven�t seen it in years, but it was on the terrible commercial-y AMC network, formerly known as the wonderful commercial-free AMC network, and I would�ve had to stay up until around 5:00 a.m. Today I finally signed my new apartment lease, after much agonizing, worrying, wondering if I should move, if I should buy a house, how do I buy a house, etc., etc., ad nauseum. I went to the office, with my highlighted copy, asked why my �pets� aren�t listed on my lease, and found out (by the Assistant Manager pulling out my �file�) that I signed a �pet agreement�, and I even put down $100 deposit to have my two �pets�. After six years, and no copy of said agreement, I�d totally forgotten! So, all is well. Now I must return for my copy, as I left it to be signed by the manager (who is never around, who I�ve never seen), later this week. Then I�m good for one more year. Then? Dunno. Work is insanely slow. Insanely. The past two Mondays have been grueling torture, and this Monday, today, is like some time warp or something. It feels like� like� it�s a National Holiday or something. Perhaps because it is? We�re here, we�re working, but apparently no one else is. Very few phone calls, very few FAXes, very few of anything work related, and this is good, no mistaking, but I�d rather be home. The cats were all over me all weekend, especially that Gladys cat. And today when I went home for lunch they were all over me again, sort of, �HEY! You�re home! Yay! Let�s play! Can I sit on your lap? Could you make a lap for me to sit on? Let�s watch TV! You can pat me if you want to!�, etc. I felt so guilty leaving them again. But someone has to go out and earn a living. It�s really cold and wet outside. I hear there�s a blizzard in New York, and D.C. is shut down or something. SNOW everywhere, but here. It would be worth the nasty wet cold if we had snow to look at. If we could stay inside, at home, instead of having to be here, doing nothing. And what about those 21 people trampled to death in that nightclub in Chicago? What a way to go, eh? One minute you�re shaking your ass, next minute you can�t breathe, then you�re down on the floor and someone�s boot is crushing your skull. Hey, reminds me of last week�s �CSI�, with the nightclub �foam party�, the guy got pierced in the temple by a high heel! Of course he was already dead, but still. And tonight is the final finale of �Joe Millionaire�. �The new boy� says he read that the big secret, the big shocking surprise is that one of the women, Sarah, the blonde, is pregnant! We shall see what we shall see. I look forward, either way. Boring. I think I�ll read now. Actually I�m glad to have the time. Cost of the War in Iraq
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