An online journal since 1999
|:: HOME :: GET EMAIL UPDATES :: bunt sign (my site) :: My Flickr :: My Instagram :: My Tweets :: My Archives :: Thoughts from Crow Cottage :: Words-of-Mine :: BLB on Xanga :: Patchwork :: Miss Rachel :: Nilknarf :: Bitchypoo :: Dysfunction Junction :: Funny the World :: Crochetlady :: EMAIL ::|
Read/Post Comments (5)
2012-11-05 10:44 PM
Well, this day could have been worse.
How's that for a ringing endorsement of the first Monday after the time change? Getting up this morning: not too bad. Work: reasonably productive, for a Monday (any given Monday). Health: I felt a lot better than I did when I was trying to get to bed last night and my stomach was hurting and my allergies were acting up and I kind of half wished myself into the cornfield.
After much deliberation, I made a decision about the audit. I'm going to try to give the auditor what he wants, a disc with most of the basic information on it. I haven't made a backup disc since I started using a cloud-based file backup service, so I'm a little out of practice, but I think I can handle it.
He'll have to accept Excel files, but who doesn't accept Excel files? It's the gold standard of spreadsheets. I remember teaching myself Lotus 1-2-3 back in the Eighties, when the computer didn't even have enough RAM to allow you to undo an action. You had to be right the first time, or start over. Can you even imagine? It was like typing through carbon paper. I don't miss those days at all, although I kind of wish I still had the old Compaq that I packed up and carried back and forth from home to office every night. (Not to use, just to marvel at.)
This afternoon, as twilight was descending (at 4:30), I looked out on the grass and saw something that didn't belong there. It was grey or beige, and it was stretched out over approximately the shape and size that a dead cat might occupy. (I know this because I've had cats die in my yard.) I kind of hoped that it was a birch branch, but the birch tree is long gone, so it was obviously something else.
As I gingerly picked my way through the new growth in the yard, getting closer and closer, I was afraid it might still be alive but injured, and I'd have to do something for it. But it wasn't alive. It was a towel. I don't know where it came from, but it's still there, until I can get something to pick it up with (because there's no way to know where it came from or what it's been used for).
Read/Post Comments (5)
Previous Entry :: Next Entry
Back to Top
© 2001-2010 JournalScape.com. All rights reserved.
All content rights reserved by the author.