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it fucken wimdy
Oct. 27th, 2019 02:05 pmvia https://ift.tt/2p87Dez
So I left work at 4:45 Friday night and just drove straight to the farm.
I listened to an entire season of Alice Isn’t Dead on the drive. It spat rain at me, fitfully, never hard but without ever quite letting up, for the majority of the drive. It’s a long time since I made that drive in the dark, it turns out, and it’s, well. It’s boring in the day, and at night it’s just mind-numbingly monotonous, with nothing to look at.
I stopped only to pee, and for dinner ate a granola bar and most of a bag of Chee-Tos, because I had them with me, because I didn’t want to stop for junk food; I could’ve picked up something on my way out but given my unexpected fortune to leave before the 5pm rush hour, I elected to just– get out of town. (Traffic’s not horrible at 5 but it’s annoying, and I know it is on that stretch of road because my old commute is also the way to get to the highway.)
I still haven’t found my ideal podcast, which is one that never features loud sounds or quiet mumbling, but AID is close; the main narrator speaks clearly enough most of the time, though the other occasional voices are never good. Irritatingly, it is universally true that every prerecorded advertisement-type segment is painfully louder than the main content, which is apparently true for literally every form of media ever anywhere? Ah well.
( farm life, busy weekend, children's birthday party, political campaigning, etc )
Today, Sunday, I helped BIL with chores– a couple of things just need two people. It’s in the low forties and whipping windy rain, blustery, unpleasant, and I left my rain pants in Buffalo, so I got soaked through. Two of the chicken pens had blown out of position, but somehow no chickens had been killed by them, which is a mercy. We got everybody repositioned, and fed, and got back down and I went out to the yurt to change my pants and discovered that the roof had partly blown off in the two hours I’d been gone.
So I had to chase all that down and fix it, but I got it set back up, and am inside thawing. It’s not cold, at all, it’s just so damp, and gross, and I’m actually sort of sweaty, and of course I have Special Lady Cramps.
But it’s nice to be busy, and needed.
So I left work at 4:45 Friday night and just drove straight to the farm.
I listened to an entire season of Alice Isn’t Dead on the drive. It spat rain at me, fitfully, never hard but without ever quite letting up, for the majority of the drive. It’s a long time since I made that drive in the dark, it turns out, and it’s, well. It’s boring in the day, and at night it’s just mind-numbingly monotonous, with nothing to look at.
I stopped only to pee, and for dinner ate a granola bar and most of a bag of Chee-Tos, because I had them with me, because I didn’t want to stop for junk food; I could’ve picked up something on my way out but given my unexpected fortune to leave before the 5pm rush hour, I elected to just– get out of town. (Traffic’s not horrible at 5 but it’s annoying, and I know it is on that stretch of road because my old commute is also the way to get to the highway.)
I still haven’t found my ideal podcast, which is one that never features loud sounds or quiet mumbling, but AID is close; the main narrator speaks clearly enough most of the time, though the other occasional voices are never good. Irritatingly, it is universally true that every prerecorded advertisement-type segment is painfully louder than the main content, which is apparently true for literally every form of media ever anywhere? Ah well.
( farm life, busy weekend, children's birthday party, political campaigning, etc )
Today, Sunday, I helped BIL with chores– a couple of things just need two people. It’s in the low forties and whipping windy rain, blustery, unpleasant, and I left my rain pants in Buffalo, so I got soaked through. Two of the chicken pens had blown out of position, but somehow no chickens had been killed by them, which is a mercy. We got everybody repositioned, and fed, and got back down and I went out to the yurt to change my pants and discovered that the roof had partly blown off in the two hours I’d been gone.
So I had to chase all that down and fix it, but I got it set back up, and am inside thawing. It’s not cold, at all, it’s just so damp, and gross, and I’m actually sort of sweaty, and of course I have Special Lady Cramps.
But it’s nice to be busy, and needed.
