Spent all day working on Census (except for a short break to watch Sinbad, review tomorrow). Am very tired and going to bed.
I expect LiveJournal to be aflame tomorrow from your posts on the many topics below.
I'm not going to start naming people, and there's multiple people this applies to (annoyingly enough), so do't go taking it as a personal attack. Take it instead as a bad-tempered request for future behaviour:
If you're going to do something for "my own good" then for fuck's sake talk to me about it first*. If I find out that you have been doing things for me behind my back I will not be happy.
I am not seven, nor am I senile.
*This obviously excludes surprise parties, presents and visits. I will be very happy about those.
Where are you all? Suffering from Monday Morning syndrome?
Fairly good weekend in some ways, apart from 9 hours straight programming on Sunday. Oh, and the neighbours.
We have an allotment out back. Well, I think we do, because the person we bought the flat from mentioned it, but I'd never gone in search of it because (a) allotments don't interest me and (b) the back garden is overlooked by our downstairs drug-dealing, 3am arguing, scumbag neighbours.
But on Saturday Erin decided to repot plants, so I accompanied her downstairs, with Denver, to keep her company. While I was down there I decided to go and investigate the sheds and see which one was mine. The one I think is mine had the door propper open, boxes propped up over the bottom half of the doorway and a large marbley-brown bird in it. Oh, and a floor covered in bird-shit, apart from 3 small dishes.
Erin was shocked to see this and convinced that someone was keeping this bird illegaly. So she phoned the SSPCA, who came out, told us the bird was a baby seagull and were about to take it away (as it was limping and probably shouldn't be being kept by people) when the woman from the downstairs flat intercepted her. I beat a hasty retreat, accompanied by the sound of shouting (she has an amazing set of lungs), and the SSPCA women dealt with her.
Well, I say dealt, what actually happened was that she made the woman promise to take it to the vets, or she'd have to remove it. And the woman is now decidely unhappy with me over the whole thing.
Fortunately I haven't seen her since, and hopefully it'll all subside and i can forget about it. If I had any more hope spare, I'd be hoping that they sold up now the area's going up in price and relocated to somewhere cheaper. As far away as possible.
Someday I shall have a mansion. And the dogs will be set on anyone with an IQ of less than 110.
You know what's been the biggest catalyst for personal development in my life?
Those moments when I'm being thoroughly exasperated by someone else's behavious and it suddenly clicks that I do that. That I sometimes act like this complete imbecile that's driving me insane.
Nothing makes you want to change more than realising what a complete schmuck you are.