Watching Kath & Kim. May the baby Jesus bless whatever algorithm made this show pop up on Netflix, because it is everything I’ve been wanting in a show that I didn’t know I wanted. Early 2000s fashion, dated celebrity references, Australian accents, stupid jokes, smart jokes, just everything, I just love it all so much.
Reading N.K. Jemisin. After barely reading anything at all for well over a year – nothing I picked up was really grabbing me, which very likely had a lot less to do with the quality of reading material available than with the fact that nothing in the world is more interesting than sleep to a person who isn’t getting any – I found “The Fifth Season” last month by randomly clicking around on Amazon. And holy cow. I bought the second and third books in the trilogy before finishing the first and read them all one after another. Turns out that N.K. Jemisin is kind of a huge deal! She’s already won lots of awards et cetera et cetera and so she probably doesn’t care that she has a new fan in me (five years after everyone else already knew about her… I’m nothing if I’m not a trendsetter) BUT IF YOU’RE READING THIS, HI! I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR REKINDLING MY LOVE OF READING IF YOU WANT TO COME OVER YOU TOTALLY CAN.
Last night I finished reading “The Art of Inheriting Secrets,” by Barbara O’Neal because I needed a palette cleanser before starting another Jemisin trilogy. Sometimes you need a little romance in an English countryside in between fantasy worlds, you know? Anyway it was fine! Worth every one of the zero dollars I paid for it.
Worrying about getting my wisdom teeth out next week. I finally sucked it up and found a new dentist that I actually like, who referred me to an oral surgeon who is just delightful and seems perfectly competent. Still, I should have had this done years ago and in addition to this particular procedure costing me a small fortune I am also concerned about what other work I’m going to need to have done. I am twenty-nine hundred times more apprehensive about this than I was about giving birth. (I said that to the woman I share an office with, who responded “Make sure someone is waiting for you so that nobody molests you while you’re drugged” so there’s absolutely no need to worry about me nope no sir I am surrounded by positive, reassuring individuals.)
Baking some kind of banana bread pudding concoction this weekend, because last night I thought "Oh why don't I bake a nice chocolate chip banana bread" to bring to a Ted Bundy viewing I'm going to tonight and then I thought, "Well there will be other food there so why don't I use some of this batter to make mini muffins for daycare" and of course burnt the ever-loving crap out of the mini muffins. (I was in the other room watching Kath & Kim and lost track of time if you must know.) Then this morning I couldn't fit the whole loaf into a container AND SO now I have all these sort of burnt tiny muffins and a couple of stray crumbly squares that will probably good with some pudding dumped over the top.
Zoodle Margaret hugs for real now, and her little arms around my neck are worth every single moment she insists that we sit in the dark while eating dinner because she likes to flick the light switch off but not back on again and so help you if you try to do it. Also she now says both "love you!" and "amo!" and it's honestly, truly just too much.
