So although I've been going to bed ridiculously early --- like barely making it to 9:30 --- and sleeping in later on top of that, I managed to get a fair amount of stuff done today.
I made a grocery list and got groceries (before breakfast, no less! but that's what happens when you don't feel like going out for milk the night before) and spent a couple hours blazing through some short grading assignments. Then I also cleaned the bathroom and cooked a big ol' pot of gumbo.
I don't think the gumbo is going to turn out well, however, because I was going off of two different recipes from two different sources, and tossed in salt way too early in the process, so the kidney beans are still all hard. Ah well. The good news is I have something cheffed up for the week so I can grab stuff for lunch (and dinners on the late days). I chopped up a bunch of stuff for a stir-fry too, which I might make tonight so that I have so much leftovers I don't have to cook this week.
Oh, and I caught up on the dishes and sorta cleaned the kitchen. My cats are magic and can sense when I have freshly mopped the floor, so it is no longer pristine, sigh. And since I was cooking the gumbo, the stove is still filthy. And the inside of the fridge is as well. The freezer thingy has frozen down into a tiny hole, too. But those I will deal with later. Preferably much later. At least I got all the cleaning stuff and vacuum cleaner put away --- they were out in the bathroom all week, because I kept saying I was going to get to cleaning it, and instead I just constantly tripped over things and I think it made me even more depressed.
Meh. I did get some job apps off yesterday; I should work up some more today, but I also have a hundred pages of a novel to read and a lecture to prep for Monday. I need to do that first; it's making me stressed. Although, if I did a crappy job, or didn't hold class at all, what the hell would happen to me? What are they gonna do, not hire me back?
I kill me sometimes.
I support both the cooking of gumbo and the maintaining of one's mordant sense of humor. Carry on.
While it was bad of me not to keep up with your blog lately, it was actually good to come back to it and read the last chunk in bulk to get a sense of the creeping from good-humored agitation to straight tragicomedy. I mean, it sucks and everything, but it's a dramatical barnburner.
Mordant, eh? --- good word, nice vocabulary there.
D: what comedy? I feel like one of those poor sod-all Victorian heroines tied to a bus or whatever, and I have no fucking clue how the story will end, that's the crappy part.
You're still funny. That's my only rubric; I implied no marriage.
I'm the same way. The level of clutter in my house is in direct proportion to the amount of stress in my job.
For me, cleaning my apartment is like starting anew.
Sucks about the gumbo though...
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