Monday, July 8, 2013

Post 2380 - Monday

Well, it's Monday night.  Pretty early.  I will be turning in shortly because I got very little sleep last evening.

It is hard to sleep when you are basting in your own sweat, where even scratching your nose causes an eruption of more perspiration, and where the relentless humidity makes resting nearly impossible.  I eventually did fall asleep, but it was fitful.  Even the cats were not waking us up to feed the in the middle of the night.  Thanks, guys.

When one adult doesn't get much sleep, he's probably going to be crabby.  When it is 2 adults who live together, then woe betide anyone who gets in their way.

I am grateful that the oppressive stickiness that dominated the weather for the last few days was not present today.  In fact, we got a little rain, which broke the humidity nicely.  The drive home was pleasant enough.

For dinner we had a couple gluten-free pizzas that Patricia picked up in the Valley on Saturday.  They were about the size of a discus.  Probably tasted like one, too.  They were made by a company called
"Pie R Squared", and they should be embarrassed to put their name on their product.  The crust barely had any taste, as if I were eating the cardboard the pizza was resting on.  If there was any tomato sauce on the pizza, it had run away and joined the French Foreign Legion.  The resulting meal, even after I had thrown some hamburger on the pizzas, was nearly inedible.  We were hungry enough to eat the plastic the pizzas came wrapped in, so we consumed the pizzas, but 90 minutes later I feel pretty gross.  I am not blaming them for tonight's headache, but I wouldn't put it past them.  Check out their website if you want to get a dose of non-truth in advertising.

Oh, the pizzas were seven dollars apiece.  Seven. Dollars. Apiece.

Is "gluten-free" synonymous with "taste free"?  I am starting to think so.

Newbie is with me in my home office.  Once again, he is curled up in the cardboard box that once held frozen chicken pieces.  The box is probably 6 or 7 years old, but I wouldn't dare buy him an actual cat bed because he wouldn't use it.  Ungrateful little cur.

Wait.  Curs are dogs.  What is a demeaning term for cats?

Guess I'll call it a night.

It's a... never mind.

See you tomorrow.


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