...man. That's nice.
In other news, the post-novel ennui has turned into a cold.
We're shocked. Shocked, I tell you. (It's like finishing finals. Big huge push and then down for a couple of days as your immune system hits the eject button. The exposure to con crud from Boskone and overtired is not helping either, I'm sure.)
If you want me, I'll be reading Watership Down in a peppermint-scented tub.
The good news is, my shiny new 19 inch flatscreen monitor should be here today. (It was actually here yesterday, but I was out taking the truck to the doctor and a bunch of packages to the post, so they did not leave it, as is right and proper. I live in a sketchy neighborhood, though larbalestier would say it is dodgy.)
And then I will have like, 75% more desk.
(I typed, with my facility for near-homophone typos when I am tired, "19 inch flatscreen minotaur." This probably tells you more than you need to know about the neurology of how my brain stores words. Any descriptions of aphasia in recent works may or may not be taken from the author's actual experience.)
Man, it sounds like the storm damage in the Midwest and Southeast is bad. Twenty deaths from twisters. *wince* Thank you, mallet of perspective, as britgeekgrrl would say.