sundries

- I did sign up for that stick class on July 25/26 (don't worry, Patty, it's just a few hours a day and won't involve me getting out of bed early!)

- I still can't stop listening to Foreign Lander on repeat.

- Funny I-Am-Not-Cosplaying-at-Dragon-Con discussion with Jill, that has given me an idea for stuff I can wear that no one will know is costume, but that will keep me good-natured and snickering.

- Have I mentioned I have to be at work at 6am tomorrow and there won't really be time to go home and nap before fencing?

- I would really really like to have some time to do some writing tonight, but I don't think it's going to happen. I am trying to content myself with the knowledge that everything I've written lately has rocked in part because I had to sit and sit and sit with it before I produced it and that made it take up a lot of emotional space not just for me but for the reader.

- Dances of Vice festival tickets are not cheap. But I have a couple of freelance writing gigs this week that will mean I get those for Patty and I early next week.

- Really need to get home in time to do laundry tonight.

- Rewatching Torchwood season 1 -- general notes:
* the wardrobe people are either crazy or stupid (more than I already thought)
* In the first episode Jack is much more menacing than I remember him being.

- When will tomatoes stop being poisonous?

I can do stuff!

So I come home, and the light blows in the kitchen with a pop loud enough that I sort of duck. When I go to turn on the living room light, it's out.

I go out to buy lightbulbs. Change the lightbulbs. Turn on the lights. No lights.

And this time, because I learned my lesson of last time, I thought, "I'll check the fuse box!" and ahah was able to get the lights back on without having to stand in the grocery store for an hour muttering "Richard would not be felled by lightbulbs" because I thought that I had somehow managed to buy broken lightbulbs three times in a row (see, see what I was like before Patty? Very bad at the bachelor lifestyle. Now I can hold things down while she's off being Indiana Jones).

I know this doesn't seem like an accomplishment to you all, but it was a moment of nice, amused sensibleness for me.

That said, the labels scrawled on the inside of the fusebox are, in fact, wrong, and I should do something about that at some point.