Another pathetic Saturday.

I have really got to work on writing more positive headlines for my blog entries.

Kevin came home within half an hour of me last night, which is an unusual and unexpected occurence. Unfortunately, it was because he was feeling under the weather, so I went into annoying-caretaker mode and pestered him to see if I could bring him rice, broth, or tea. He did actually want some of these things, as well as a thermometer to read his temp at 101'F. I think he was able to sleep it off, but he's been pretty blah still today. How this differs from his usual weekend mood, I'm not exactly sure, but I'm treading lightly. Besides repeatedly asking him how he feels or if I can make him any bland food that won't trouble his stomach.

This morning, I stayed in bed until noon reading The Red Tent, which Kevin's mom lent me awhile ago. It's the kind of story I enjoy occasionally--in some ways, it reminded me of Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children, though nowhere near as rich and beautiful. It's a very girl-power sort of story, and that's good sometimes, especially outside the context of contemporary chick lit I couldn't tolerate anyway.

The afternoon consisted of cleaning the kitchen. The dishwasher failed to properly use the detergent bomb during the last load, and as a result, every single glass I washed and a few dishes came out crusted with that sandy crap that causes me great consternation (never mind my horrible alliteration). I've found that running them again, this time in the lower rack, solves the problem. Are you fascinated yet? I know I am. Also, I swept and mopped the floor.

And there was the disc of Rescue Me I finished. Still depressing. I have one disc of the BBC series MI-5 to watch. Salaam Bombay! has yet to appear in my mailbox, which screws up my whole Netflix system: I try to watch everything over the weekend and return it Monday, though usually if I mail it by Wednesday at the latest, I will still have something over the weekend.

I am dressed like an absolute slob. The neighbors are having their house painted by a noisy bunch of Latinos who covered our cars with plastic wrap. I want to bake more fucking great vegan brownies, but I'm pretty much out of sugar that isn't confectioners.

Why don't more of you live here and have no lives?