[AN: This should have been posted yesterday. Sorry about that]
The AC has crashed in my main parlour of employment, turning the entire room and anyone in there into humid, sticky goop incapable of rational thought.
And since I was running around, most of yesterday, I didn't do any of the post scheduling that my prescient past self had already done this Friday past.
However, it's too hot in my office to use the computer on the regular, so I have to figure out how to schedule my Blasts From the Past when it's just too dang hot in here to sit for any length of time, let alone look up the file, the URL, and do all the copy/pasting for the noise.
So, I have uploaded my Instants Master File to my Google Drive, so I can now take it anywhere.
Which means that my work is, more or less, fully mobile. I already put up this week's segment of fanfic that is still trapped on my hard drive, so that noise is one less thing to fret about.
It's hot and nasty out here, and I can deal. I was in and out of the AC all day, yesterday and maybe, just maybe, I won't fall over sick with chicken pox AGAIN. I've had it three times in my life, and each case was followed by firkin shingles. Every. Single. Time.
Every time I re-caught chicken pox, it was because it was:
- The middle of the hottest, nastiest time of the year
- When I was in and out of the hot and the cold
- Running myself ragged for several errands
- ALL FIRKIN DAY
So this one fits the pattern. I plan to quarantine myself if I get the slightest case of the sniffles. And I should really tell my Beloved this so that they're prepared.
I've had tests done and all. I am, apparently, fully immune. But I keep catching that mofo whenever my system's worn to a nub, so IDK. Maybe I'm just special.
I'll turn up in The Science Show as a medical freak who caught chicken pox six firkin times or something. Just you watch.