Yeah, getting a new fish (post later, and reasons why it’s later will come soon) and some new stuff for the fish tanks Sunday morning was cool. Visiting with the in-laws Sunday was awesome ’cause this is the first time they have ever seen any of the places we’ve ever lived, and they like Kitty and liked the food (which I cooked, for some odd reason). Even hanging out with a Cooper’s hawk on the quadrangle next to our building on campus Friday afternoon was kinda neat. I even beat “We Love Katamari” Saturday morning while waiting for the husband to get back from LGT. Dandy. That’s pretty much where good stuff stops.

I won’t bore you with the details concerning butcher knives and paranoia while playing Bloodlines at three in the morning, and I won’t get into the morbid psychosis while waiting on the husband to get back. A few other things over the weekend such as spending over an hour on dishes (I fucking hate washing dishes.) and minor shopping irritations aren’t terribly notable either. I guess it’s just other crap that’s getting on my nerves.

For starters, beginning today, the ISU wireless network is requiring all users to download some crappy program to their machines to login and authenticate blah blah blah whatever. I dragged Buster in today with the sole intent of Photoshopping some images I took yesterday to put up on the page about the new fish and the additions to the tanks. The Photoshopping done, I couldn’t log into the network. The program is downloaded, installed and was running, and regardless of browser or program, there was NO getting connected to the goddamned network. I called the IT desk and got some foreigner (go figure). I told him that I have Norton running along with Kerio firewall, and he told me that I would have to turn them off to use the network. <Small explosion in brain> Oh, sure, lemme just disable what’s protecting my ass from the thousands of fucking numbskulls all over campus so I can upload five pictures and update my site. He then told me that I should be running McAffee and not Norton because the school uses McAffee. Fuck McAffee! There’s a reason why I run Norton and there’s no good reason for me to change now! He then told me I could get the McAffee software off of ISU’s site to which I told him that I couldn’t if I couldn’t fucking get to the network then, huh? So then he told me to try Norton’s site to update my program. <Yet another blood vessel bursting> I just wanted to end the conversation so I told him I’d mess with that at home where I have an actual goddamned internet connection. I even tried using the network cord from my desktop machine here and for some odd reason that didn’t work. Goddamned piece of shit motherfucker stupid ass fucktarded computer bullshit! If Ian were home, I’d’ve tried him first, but he’s in class. Screw it. I’ll fuck with it later.

That bit of angst out of the way, I had one of my students who had missed last week’s midterm come in today like I told her. She didn’t come in to take the test, however; she came in to see if she could take it tomorrow. You know, I really, really just wanna fucking get these things graded and out of my hair, back in the students’ hands tomorrow, so she better not be late. I still have to write up notes on chapter seven, after all. Shit, I still have to figure out what I’m gonna do with those fucked up exams when I grade them later. Fucking stupid shit. Fuck.

Saturday is “feel like a giant fat cow day.” Technically, it’s the day we’re all heading to Vincennes to try on bridesmaids dresses for Sarah’s wedding. Mentally, though, I’m calling it “Erin’s a big fat cow” day. I know everyone who’s going. I also know that I’m going to be the heaviest one there by about four or six sizes. One, I already fucking hate dresses, and two, I’m too fat to look good in anything Sarah has picked out. I know Sarah sometimes feels like I’ve got some weird vendetta to ruin her life (“You can’t get married then; that’s when I’m graduating high school!” “You can’t graduate in May; no one will care that I’m graduating in May!”), but I honestly don’t want to make her bridal party look ugly. That’s just how I am. I don’t know if apologizing for being a big fat cow is enough to make up for anything. Probably not. Even if I do manage to lose weight before the wedding in July, I’ll still be the big fat cow. Yay.

Speaking of this weekend, having people over means cleaning and organizing and work. I’m happy to have everyone over; don’t get me wrong, but it still takes work. I think we’re going to have to run out and grab an air mattress or something too ’cause other than the couch and Ian’s old twin, we really don’t have anything else to sleep on except the floor. Having company is always stressful; I don’t care who the company is. It just makes me nervous ’cause I’m self-conscious and paranoid enough that everything’s going to go wrong. More yay. Maybe enough alcohol will remove some of those problems. It’s probably a good thing I don’t like the taste of most alcohol or I’d probably end up an alky. Triple yay.

Then there’s the general worry about the thesis. Don’t get me started. I’m not going there in this rant and there’s reasons for that. Leave it alone or I’m gonna get more twitchy. Twitchy, I don’t fucking need.

I had been hoping to get some sort of catharsis with this rant, and I really haven’t. I still have an advisors’ meeting at three and an SFOL meeting at five and I still have exams to grade and I still have a lard ass and love handles and bad joints and bad blood sugar and I’m still a klutz and an idiot and a backward hick. Blah blah. The weather doesn’t help. Can we spell “SAD”? Can we spell “cold weather makes my joints worse”? I dunno. I’m just pissed off in general and I just want to crawl into a little hole for the next month. Would that help? No. Do I care? No. Fuck it. I’m gonna clean my desk. Maybe if I can find things I’ll feel a little better.

Addendum: I painted my nails neon green and then coated that with some glow-in-the-dark. So far since having done that Saturday, I have screwed up my right middle finger no less than eight times. It’s a wonderful feeling to keep screwing up nonstop on something so trivial and simple. Simply wonderful.