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Feb. 10th, 2014 09:50 am( Gaeilge )
I don't even with that past weekend. I got very little done. Some cleaning, but mostly it was laying around on the couch trying not to pass out too much on Saturday, and something similar on Sunday. Saturday I can blame on the ick. I'm not really sure what to blame Sunday on. Lingering unwillingness to do anything.
Which means of course that I have a massive backlog both of translation and of writing work to do. Which. Argh. Monday's going to be interesting. There's not much incoming but there are a shitpile of orders to go out, two of which are fairly large.
There's also the gift from Grandpa I have to deal with, which. Urk. And then a scrapbook for Grandpa that I have to plan out. And I have no idea how the hell even to do this. I might try looking at a nice photo album and just putting photos in and filling intermediate spaces in the photo slots with cards and things with nice drawings and explanations. Or. Something. I do not scrapbook. I do not know how to scrapbook. Argh. But I really really want him to see the house. I also have to remind myself not to take too long on this because it's not like he's likely to live long enough for me to paint all the walls the way I want to and fix everything up and hang curtains and everything. Well, hang curtains. The walls, not so much, that actually could take years.
Anyway.
Russian has gotten down to page 49mumbledymumble (this to be filled in after I do it, since I'm posting this around lunch) and I still am boggled that people are surprised about the accommodation and problems surrounding the Sochi Olympics. And then I wonder just how skewed I really am. (And then I look at my Russian hat and my Russian leader matryoshka dolls and think about the stories and videos and books I grew up with and realize that, yes, I am very skewed.) And then, you know, I go curl up in my corner and do my work. Pfui. I want fruit leather.
Back to Russian and every other bloody thing I have to do today. It's sheeting down large snowflakes. They're not sticking. They're melting as soon as they hit the pavement, which means as soon as the temperature drops we're going to have ice sheets all over everything. Possibly covered by a thin layer of snow. THE BEST. Hauser disapproves of this winter.
I don't even with that past weekend. I got very little done. Some cleaning, but mostly it was laying around on the couch trying not to pass out too much on Saturday, and something similar on Sunday. Saturday I can blame on the ick. I'm not really sure what to blame Sunday on. Lingering unwillingness to do anything.
Which means of course that I have a massive backlog both of translation and of writing work to do. Which. Argh. Monday's going to be interesting. There's not much incoming but there are a shitpile of orders to go out, two of which are fairly large.
There's also the gift from Grandpa I have to deal with, which. Urk. And then a scrapbook for Grandpa that I have to plan out. And I have no idea how the hell even to do this. I might try looking at a nice photo album and just putting photos in and filling intermediate spaces in the photo slots with cards and things with nice drawings and explanations. Or. Something. I do not scrapbook. I do not know how to scrapbook. Argh. But I really really want him to see the house. I also have to remind myself not to take too long on this because it's not like he's likely to live long enough for me to paint all the walls the way I want to and fix everything up and hang curtains and everything. Well, hang curtains. The walls, not so much, that actually could take years.
Anyway.
Russian has gotten down to page 49
Back to Russian and every other bloody thing I have to do today. It's sheeting down large snowflakes. They're not sticking. They're melting as soon as they hit the pavement, which means as soon as the temperature drops we're going to have ice sheets all over everything. Possibly covered by a thin layer of snow. THE BEST. Hauser disapproves of this winter.