The equivalent of putting my fingers in my ears and going lalalala…

If the update is late, our customers can blame McCain. Still too preoccupied with the election drama and tonight’s debate to work on it.

Random babbling ensues in an attempt to clear my head so I can get back to work.

The baby is in her swing thingy. One of the music tracks it plays is a calypso version of Itsy Bitsy Spider. Thus, the calypso version of Itsy Bitsy Spider has been stuck in my head all day. Its harrowing.

Topsy Turvy is on in the background right now, as Ted and I luvz Gilbert & Sullivan.

Something short circuited while I was pregnant, and now I burn the hell out of everything I cook. Alas for tonight’s veggie bacon.

Diane Arbus was a Pisces. Pier Paolo Pasolini was a Pisces. My sign is a nuthouse.

Can’t wait to get the ok from my doc so that I can go back to exercising. And go back to having sleazy, cheap sex with my husband.

Getting my hair done this week. Thank hell. I’m a little sick of looking like a hobo. My hair looks like an old, wet macrame plant holder that’s starting to unravel.

I want to go to the comic book store this week. There are about a gurzillion stories I’m behind on. I need to inventory my comics, though. I haven’t started the Batman RIP line, and I don’t know which ones I have vs which ones I need, and I hate fucking up and buying duplicates.

Huh. This isn’t working. Brain still full of angst.