athelind: (hoard potato)
It's Saturday morning.

I am sitting in front of the television with a big bowl of cereal, watching cartoons.

It's not all that different from a Saturday morning 40 years ago, except ...

  • Coffee!
  • Laptop computer. I mean, seriously. This thing wasn't even a concept in 1972.
  • Coffee.
  • Vastly superior cartoons. Avatar: the Legend of Korra, the Thundercats reboot, Green Lantern and Young Justice vs. ... well, this.


All in all ... Yeah, to heck with nostalgia this morning. More like relaxed contentment.


Did I mention coffee?
athelind: (AAAAAA)
Observation: two cups of coffee within 90 minutes is my limit.

The third seems to produce mildly disorienting side effects, a little bit like anxiety, and a little bit like motion sickness while sitting perfectly still.

It's almost subliminal.

I'm glad I don't have to drive for a few more hours; I can sense my temper just looking for an excuse.


athelind: (coyote laughs)
A week or so ago, during the holiday retail frenzy, [livejournal.com profile] quelonzia got a pack of hot dogs and buns. Originally, she planned to build an official dinner around them, but decided that they were better-suited for quick, fast meals. This was a nice idea, since I was working crazy hours.

Shortly thereafter, I came home exhausted, after everyone else had eaten dinner, and needed something. The Fire of My Heart said, "You can have a hot dog!"

The Grandspawn replied, "No, he can't. They're all gone."

Quel had had two. I'd had none.

(This is a recurring phenomenon, incidentally. Whenever we get something simple and easy to prepare, to use as meals when people are pressed for time or don't feel like cooking, the Grandspawn considers it fair game as snacks, and will rip through the whole stash before anyone else has a chance to get any.)

So, today, I went to Smart & Final (the bulk food store), one of the few local purveyors of Quelonzia's Incurable Addiction, and saw that they had my favorite brand of Cheap-But-Substantial Hot Dogs, Bar S. 16 dogs to a package, three pounds of meat, $4.99 -- and each dog is both larger and more flavorful than your ISO Standard Oscar Mayer.

They have three kinds: Polish Sausage, Smoked Sausage... and Hot Smoked Sausage.

I got the Hot Smoked Sausage. They're tasty. (Of course, I'm the only one who thinks so.)

When I got home, I opened the package up to fix myself one. Because the package doesn't seal by itself, I slid the whole thing into a Zip-Loc bag.

Unfortunately, in the process of opening it, I just happened to snip off the part of the label that says "HOT".

"Oopsie."

Hey, I've never claimed to be the grown-up.

Update: Younger Stepdaughter also likes the spicy smoked sausage. She suggested having it for dinner tonight -- and has no intention of warning her stepspawn. She didn't get any of the last batch of hot dogs, either...

Update 2: Karma Happens.

athelind: (Default)
A week or so ago, during the holiday retail frenzy, [livejournal.com profile] quelonzia got a pack of hot dogs and buns. Originally, she planned to build an official dinner around them, but decided that they were better-suited for quick, fast meals. This was a nice idea, since I was working crazy hours.

Shortly thereafter, I came home exhausted, after everyone else had eaten dinner, and needed something. The Fire of My Heart said, "You can have a hot dog!"

The Grandspawn replied, "No, he can't. They're all gone."

Quel had had two. I'd had none.

(This is a recurring phenomenon, incidentally. Whenever we get something simple and easy to prepare, to use as meals when people are pressed for time or don't feel like cooking, the Grandspawn considers it fair game as snacks, and will rip through the whole stash before anyone else has a chance to get any.)

So, today, I went to Smart & Final (the bulk food store), one of the few local purveyors of Quelonzia's Incurable Addiction, and saw that they had my favorite brand of Cheap-But-Substantial Hot Dogs, Bar S. 16 dogs to a package, three pounds of meat, $4.99 -- and each dog is both larger and more flavorful than your ISO Standard Oscar Mayer.

They have three kinds: Polish Sausage, Smoked Sausage... and Hot Smoked Sausage.

I got the Hot Smoked Sausage. They're tasty. (Of course, I'm the only one who thinks so.)

When I got home, I opened the package up to fix myself one. Because the package doesn't seal by itself, I slid the whole thing into a Zip-Loc bag.

Unfortunately, in the process of opening it, I just happened to snip off the part of the label that says "HOT".

"Oopsie."

Hey, I've never claimed to be the grown-up.

Update: Younger Stepdaughter also likes the spicy smoked sausage. She suggested having it for dinner tonight -- and has no intention of warning her stepspawn. She didn't get any of the last batch of hot dogs, either...
athelind: (work)
I've fallen off the caffeine wagon again.

Yes, thanks to a 70-mile commute and a propensity to doze off at the keyboard -- and behind the wheel -- in the afternoons, I've succumbed to the siren lure of fresh, strong coffee in the morning, punctuated by the occasional cup of jasmine tea during the day.

For now, I'm still in the "WHEEEE! I'm alert and active and brimming with brilliant ideas!" stage, but any day now, it's gonna turn into the "God Damn It Where Are My ****ing Keys Why do You People HIDE Shit From Me? AAAARGH!" stage.

Maybe.

On the other claw, since I'm working, I've actually got an outlet for the drug-induced energy and focus.

And I don't get The Crave for it on the weekends, though I sleep pretty soundly.

On the gripping hand, I was disproportionately pissed when I got home earlier this week, and the phone and broadband were down, and oh LORD, you don't want to hear me when I get home to find that someone's parked in my usual parking place (every. day. this. week.) and I have to try to parallel-park my little no-power-steering Aspire.

For right now, though, I'm upbeat and happy and feel like singing and dancing pretty much all the time!

And boy, do I feel guilty about it....
athelind: (Default)
I've fallen off the caffeine wagon again.

Yes, thanks to a 70-mile commute and a propensity to doze off at the keyboard -- and behind the wheel -- in the afternoons, I've succumbed to the siren lure of fresh, strong coffee in the morning, punctuated by the occasional cup of jasmine tea during the day.

For now, I'm still in the "WHEEEE! I'm alert and active and brimming with brilliant ideas!" stage, but any day now, it's gonna turn into the "God Damn It Where Are My ****ing Keys Why do You People HIDE Shit From Me? AAAARGH!" stage.

Maybe.

On the other claw, since I'm working, I've actually got an outlet for the drug-induced energy and focus.

And I don't get The Crave for it on the weekends, though I sleep pretty soundly.

On the gripping hand, I was disproportionately pissed when I got home earlier this week, and the phone and broadband were down, and oh LORD, you don't want to hear me when I get home to find that someone's parked in my usual parking place (every. day. this. week.) and I have to try to parallel-park my little no-power-steering Aspire.

For right now, though, I'm upbeat and happy and feel like singing and dancing pretty much all the time!

And boy, do I feel guilty about it....

November 2016

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