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I have read about how Mary Poppins is supposedly going to duel with Voldemort at the Opening Ceremonies, and several other people have speculated about it. For some reason, it made this recut Mary Poppins trailer pop into my head.

Aside from a lot of appointments and meeting a friend for coffee, I haven't really done much but lay around yesterday and today. I think I used myself up on the homework marathon. I have an assignment due tomorrow at midnight but it's not really bad at all; in this class the professor actually tells you exactly what you are supposed to do and it bears some relation to the class.



My back is really bothering me, I think from slouching in front of the computer doing work. I'm trying to be better about sitting up straight, but it's hard. I'm kind of sad because the spot I sit in on my bed is starting to get mushy in my cheap memory foam mattress. I should also say though that I like my bed to basically be hard as a rock, and so most people would probably still think the mush spot is awful.

I need to get back on organizing stuff in my room and then I could use my desk. I can tell that some of our fire to be more organized has faded since our company has come and gone. However, I still think we are doing a lot better as everyone is cooking dinner two nights a week, at least do some small cleaning in their assigned area, and we are meeting each Sunday to coordinate schedules and babysitting and what-not. Which is really more than I thought it was until I typed it out, so go us, even if my room still isn't finished.

Speaking of room, I am really upset that recently I am seeing silverfish. (Disclaimer: they are what I have always called silverfish but some of them are the super-creepy hairy looking silverfish, which might be something different.) Silverfish make me want to be dead. I don't know why, but over the past five years or so my tolerance for some bugs has disappeared, and hairy-ass silverfish are the worst offender. One time I ran gibbering out of my office at work because I saw one. Not my finest professional moment. If I don't run away from them, I just sit like a deer or rabbit, silent and quivering, hoping they will just disappear.

With them, and some intermittent ants in the kitchen, I'd really like to look into extermination services or something, but my husband was raised by hippies who not only falsely led him to believe that he could be whatever he wanted to be with no effort or planning on his part, but also that everything in the world will give you cancer and you should eat sticks and grass and you will live forever. Now, I think that you should exercise prudence, but I also think, being raised by a shallow, lazy narcissist and fatalistic alcoholic who drank himself to death, that shit happens and it's laughable to think that something as complicated as cancer, which is everything that makes us be able to stay alive gone haywire, can be prevented in a simple cause and effect chain: avoid this and don't get cancer.

On that note, I need to brush PPJ's teeth and get her ready for bed.

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themadmermaid

August 2012

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