Notes on Dryer Lint
17 April 2003 4 16:58
I'm being contrary and not really saying much today.
A few points of interest:
I was remarkably well-behaved last night and productive this morning. That means I didn't get naked with anyone last night, and this morning, I got up and did laundry and organised things and even almost managed to make it into work on time.
Tenebrae last night: 1 hour 45 minutes. Much more affecting than I've ever felt that service to be. Also much more tiring for we who had to sing for the majority of that aforementioned hour and forty-five minutes. Sometimes, I can't believe the stupid mistakes people make, but sometimes, I make stupid mistakes myself, so I get kicked as much as anyone, I suppose.
Today is Maundy Thursday. This evening's service will be very sad indeed. Hopefully, it will not be significantly longer than last night's service, as SoccerBoi is coming for a visit. Much as I love the Jesus, I want to hang out with the SoccerBoi, and I'd like to finish putting away the laundry before he arrives. If all goes well, we will go out for cheap beer and he'll get to meet my friends and he'll like them and they'll like him, but no one will like anyone more than I think they should.
Today at work, I spent at least an hour or so sitting in the accounting department fighting with an accounting problem which no one seemed to be quite able to solve. When we finally gave up on finding the solution (about 2.30 this afternoon), I walked out for some late lunch. At some point sitting in the restaurant, the solution occurred to me, in all it's woeful glorious simplicity. Then, when I came back, I had to sit on the phone and explain it to the HR manager. (Okay, I wasn't really sitting on the phone; that would be even more uncomfortable than my chair.)
Two of the most desolately beautiful things I've heard Sarah Cracknell of Saint Etienne say or sing are, "And then I shall go back to Maurice" (from "Avenue") and, "He's gone" (from "Like a Motorway").
As happens when I become taken with someone's writings in his/her diary, I've started at the very beginning of someone's diary, and she led me to take a quiz, where I learned the following about myself:
Which Member of the Endless Are You?
The more I think about it, the more fitting it seems. (It's too bad the person who created the graphic had some spelling problems.)
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