I ain't up to my baby tonight.
Jun. 20th, 2010 11:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
constanceOh, man. I went outside to cut the grass this morning, and after an hour -- it was 85 degrees F at 9:30 in the morning, and 88 an hour later -- I had to come in, take a break, and rehydrate. And I'm gonna have to go out there to finish, and it is not making me happy, imagining the temperature creeping up two or three degrees an hour, and I realize that I should just get out there and do it, before I have to weed the sidewalk not only in the full heat of a 98-degree day, but also in the sun. I know this, but still, I am going to have to force myself to get my butt up off this chair and go back outside.
Seriously, in June, we're usually leading up gradually to the blistering, infernal heat of late summer. It is UNFAIR, Universe, to be springing it on us early like this. I NEED TIME TO ACCLIMATIZE OKAY.
Not helping: I've been spending time looking at temperatures of people I know in places all over the country. And I am the hottest! >:O This will not stand! I want to know who I need to talk to about this. Or maybe I should just move to Oregon. Portland is looking mighty sweet right about now.
:::
I didn't tell you, did I, that some fucker stole my lawn mower? Well, some fucker did. (Along with my gas can and a quart of 10W30 motor oil!) I don't know exactly when it happened; my mower is such a fixture in the garage that I simply didn't notice it was missing until I needed it; but I did miss it eventually, and my post-accidental-dog budget wasn't allowing for large purchases, even necessary ones. But a coworker came through for me! In exchange for being a computer slave when he needs one, I get a free self-propelled (but not mulching, and can I tell you that after one mowing, I am already missing the mulching part) mower, which okay, sure, some people are fuckers, but some people aren't, and it's nice to be reminded.
(A brief word about self-propulsion: I've been thinking about physics lately, about how my dogs do physics all the time, that's how smart dogs are, you throw the ball and they don't just follow it blindly, they adjust their trajectory to meet the ball wherever it's going, and it is fearfully impressive to behold, the way they do this by instinct. I was thinking of this again this morning, when I realized that if you're pushing a front-wheel-drive self-propelled lawn mower, it makes the pusher's (i.e., my) job infinitely easier to put the weight of the mower on the front end and let the machine do most of the work. It took me 45 minutes to realize this, and it's a little humbling, knowing that my dogs are better at physics than I am.)
As much as I resent the loss of my cheap little mower -- and I do resent it! obviously! -- I was a lot more weirded out by the idea that the person who stole the mower also broke into the crawlspace under the house, I guess thinking that there were things worth stealing in there. (There weren't, aside from some enormous columns which would've been kind of conspicuous driving through the neighborhood.) It kills me, knowing that the space under the house sat open for possibly as long as a couple of weeks without my knowing it, and although now I have a much better lock on the door there, I still get all freaked imagining someone poking around underneath me. Maybe while I was in the house. Maybe more than once.
Fucker.
Seriously, in June, we're usually leading up gradually to the blistering, infernal heat of late summer. It is UNFAIR, Universe, to be springing it on us early like this. I NEED TIME TO ACCLIMATIZE OKAY.
Not helping: I've been spending time looking at temperatures of people I know in places all over the country. And I am the hottest! >:O This will not stand! I want to know who I need to talk to about this. Or maybe I should just move to Oregon. Portland is looking mighty sweet right about now.
:::
I didn't tell you, did I, that some fucker stole my lawn mower? Well, some fucker did. (Along with my gas can and a quart of 10W30 motor oil!) I don't know exactly when it happened; my mower is such a fixture in the garage that I simply didn't notice it was missing until I needed it; but I did miss it eventually, and my post-accidental-dog budget wasn't allowing for large purchases, even necessary ones. But a coworker came through for me! In exchange for being a computer slave when he needs one, I get a free self-propelled (but not mulching, and can I tell you that after one mowing, I am already missing the mulching part) mower, which okay, sure, some people are fuckers, but some people aren't, and it's nice to be reminded.
(A brief word about self-propulsion: I've been thinking about physics lately, about how my dogs do physics all the time, that's how smart dogs are, you throw the ball and they don't just follow it blindly, they adjust their trajectory to meet the ball wherever it's going, and it is fearfully impressive to behold, the way they do this by instinct. I was thinking of this again this morning, when I realized that if you're pushing a front-wheel-drive self-propelled lawn mower, it makes the pusher's (i.e., my) job infinitely easier to put the weight of the mower on the front end and let the machine do most of the work. It took me 45 minutes to realize this, and it's a little humbling, knowing that my dogs are better at physics than I am.)
As much as I resent the loss of my cheap little mower -- and I do resent it! obviously! -- I was a lot more weirded out by the idea that the person who stole the mower also broke into the crawlspace under the house, I guess thinking that there were things worth stealing in there. (There weren't, aside from some enormous columns which would've been kind of conspicuous driving through the neighborhood.) It kills me, knowing that the space under the house sat open for possibly as long as a couple of weeks without my knowing it, and although now I have a much better lock on the door there, I still get all freaked imagining someone poking around underneath me. Maybe while I was in the house. Maybe more than once.
Fucker.
