Grrr. But Yay.

Too often do I feel murderous these days. Not in the sense that I have any intent of slaughtering any of the great unwashed, but I do feel the blood boil a bit from time to time.

Maybe it's just PMS.

I wrote a post a few days ago that Blogger told me it couldn't post. It seemed incapable of communicating with my ftp server. Everything was up--in fact, I had been using ftp myself earlier that day--but Blogger said it was no-go. So it ate my post.

Grrr.

It was a good rant, too. About things that no longer matter and so it cannot be replicated.

Just got the general angstiness floating around. And I've managed to bite the left side of my tongue with my sharp canine twice in two days, so it's all unhappy and lumpy.

However.

The weather here is ass. It's in the high 80s. I hate this weather. It makes it unpleasant to be inside, and outside of my house is gross because it smells of feral cat shit and weird, beer-swilling neighbors.

In Seaside, it's 66 degrees and partly cloudy.

Guess where I'm going tonight.

Yeeeessssss.

Only Josie is coming with me tonight. Jana, Lindsay, and Shane are due to arrive sometime tomorrow. Kevin says he might come down at some point, but he doesn't know. This means "no." He claims there is nothing to draw him to the beach, despite his complaining of late that Seattle parks, especially ones with beaches, are not open late. Apparently, the lure of 2 a.m. beachcombing is not enough to compell him to make a 3.5-hour drive and stay with a small crowd of my crazy friends. Psh.

I really have nothing to say right now. I'm tired. I want to go home, but I am stuck here at work for another two eye-glazing hours while people complain that we close too early, etc. Then I must grab food items, refuel the car, and pick up Josie before we head out on the freeway for a butt-numbing drive into the darkness.

The one real downside to this beach excursion is I will miss the farmers' market. Oh, boo hoo, but sad. I might be gone next weekend (to Victoria with mom and Koko?) and the one after that (Portland for a wedding), so that kills the entire July crop season! What will I do without organic produce?!

Die, I guess.