Went to Portland with Jessica last week to play and to visit Johanna, Brad, and Annika, as well as Uncle Rick, Aunt Nancy, and Jackson. Had a blast. Ate some delicious food, and some not so great stuff -- this reminds me, I should yelp our stay.
Took yesterday off, basically, and the day before. Friday was a business day, and I just flitted it away, old-school procrastination style. Yesterday I had the car, and did some food shopping. Still rather unsuccessful though. We're stagnating food-wise. Made pizza, but it wasn't very good -- too thick.
The housing search continues tomorrow, with me calling mortgage brokers early in the morning.
I also need to order transcripts for Hayward as well as go down to SFUSD and raise hell. In the same vein, we need to plan a trip down to LA in order to do the same with LAUSD. That's a lot of work, but it's worth $1500 a year. That's important.
Lastly, I seem to be fearing writing. Why should I fear? Fear is the mindkiller. Sure, that's weakly plagiarized, but it still is. Take this example. I originally typed, "Fear is the minkkiller," as if fear is capable of killing minks. That sounds like a metaphor for impotence. Now we are getting on to marketable story points! Roar!
Too much to do, and nothing to do at the same.
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