The forces of the universe are aligning against me posting for Red Hot Mama.
On Sunday, the CTS was trying to adjust the settings on the iMac, the computer I primarily use at home, and now any time you press any of the keys, the letter repeates like, six times. So if you press, for example, X, what appears on the the screen is XXXXXX. Makes for difficult blogging.
So we've been sharing this computer, but my time with it has been limited, thanks to the Crack Technical Staff's yearly stint as our Crack Tax Preparation Staff.
Of course, Red Hot Mama herself has been up and down. Our current hosting service is actually much more reliable than our previous ones, but I think that mostly just says something about our previous taste in hosts.
Not that I have much time, anyway, since we're shopping for a new house and trying to figure out how in the world we're going to handle two mortgages until this house sells. I think I've got that one figured out, at least. It's the latest fad in home decoration for those with no disposable income: milk crates.
So now, the computer is free, I've finished my house-researching tasks for the evening (“Just how much *will* it cost for us to fix all the holes in the wall around the dart board?”), and the only responsibility I'm shirking is sleeping, what do I see on the game but darned Kyle Lohse can't hold onto a lead.
I drifted off in the midst of Bronson Arroyo's start last night, and woke up to find out that they'd lost. What the heck, guys?
It's the universe. It's probably telling me to go to bed.