This Strange Day Is Random At Best

The week is off to a start. Today isn't actually all that odd, but it's a Built to Spill lyric, and I am seeing them tonight at the Showbox. Woo!

I've been mildly productive so far today. I need to crank out a draft of my part of the group paper on Reno v. ACLU (1997), which is two pages of legal scholars' opinions regarding its impact on free speech and the groups affected by the decision. I also need another two pages of my own opinion, using others' opinions. This particular writing process is hindered by being at work and not having access to my home machine, "chiasmus," since we're still de-internetted at the house.

The router should arrive tomorrow, DSL should be up within the week, and Chris has already strung CAT5e from room to room and is working on putting the connectors on correctly. He also needs to ground some outlets so surge protectors don't make angry noises. Oh, and so the computer doesn't fry itself in the event of a power surge or what-have-you.

I have *.doc files of various law review articles that sounded smart enough to be of service to me, and I usually sftp back and forth between work machine and home machine with all my stuff. Now, I can look it up on Lexis-Nexis all over again, no problem, and use an alternate saving location (like, say, this server I pay for, or my school account?); I can work at home and burn CD-RWs with the work-in-progress in case I am actually able to do any work at all at work. I probably work better at home, though, and I am busy tonight, so tomorrow it is. I'll crank it out and email it to people Wednesday at 1. I hope that's not too late.

I had some coffee from the cafeteria again today. There is one kind that tastes like soap, and another kind that's better, but I think it is murder on my insides. I am cramping so bad. Maybe it's just PMS week, though. Either way, ow.

The house is calm and somewhat settled already. Margaret went back to Wenatchee with her parents, so it's just Chris and I for a few days. Jen isn't moving in until next week. She's probably not bringing that much stuff, which is good, because we already have an awful lot of it. It will still take awhile for the dust to settle and all the boxes to be unpacked, of course, but it's beginning to feel homey.

I am planning to get a key made for Kevin so he can lock up after himself should he leave after I fall asleep. I didn't mind the door to my apartment being unlocked since the building was secure, but this house is surrounded by...well, ghetto Safeway and suspicion, so I'm not too keen on the unlocked door policy. It's not a very secure house to begin with, but leaving the doors unlocked is just foolish.

One. More. Hour. Then home.