Plans

A 19-post collection

D'aaaaaaaaauuuuuuggghhh!

Baby shower’s been cancelled, because the baby in question’s been born.

The Mum will still need my unpatented first Mum’s survival kit, so we’ll have to arrange to visit sometime RSN.

With, or without the frikkin’ sarong.

So now Mum-in-law has to rattle up here to get the paperwork to get it back to the friend so she can initial it and get it back to me so I can submit it and finally get my passport.

Glah.

And, to make things interesting, I’m getting started on the things I need to pack for a trip. I now have an adapter so I can charge my devices and stay in contact with the world.

And I’ve got to remember to be slightly devious and pack some of my stuff inside a smaller suitcase inside a bigger one. That way, I have enough room for the trip home and all my purchases/souvenirs.

And take some art supplies. Definitely.

It's all shaping up.

It looks like everything’s coming together. Things are moving in the right direction.

So of course, I’m reacting to this good fortune by acting like a paranoiac under Damocles’ sword.

Waiting for the shoe to drop. Waiting for the next big disaster.

Waiting for, in this case, my birth certificate to turn up in the mail so I can complete my passport application and file that fucker.

…waiting for Godot.

No, not really. Just… living

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All's quiet...

TOO quiet, as they are won’t to say.

I haven’t had any dramas dropping into my lap, nor Drama Llama’s coming to stay. So far.

I reckon they’re saving themselves up for tomorrow.

What’s happening tomorrow, you may ask? Well, I plan on going out to get a passport photo taken. So I can take it to a friend on Sunday and get myself verified. I hope.

That’s when the

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Ow times a googolplex

So I tripped over a chair last night. No big deal, you might think.

I landed on my massively bad bone-bruised heel. 92.4 kilos of me, landing on one small area [about two square inches, if you feel like doing the math. And yes, I’m completely bipolar with metric choices] and you can guess it hurt like fuck.

It still hurts like fuck today.

I’m limping everywhere, when I have to move. I prefer not to move

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