Happy Super Lucky Day! (07/07/07 -- all sevens, all the time!)
It is hot and oh so humid this morning. I have the air on and two fans blowing and I still just can't seem to feel dry. Sticky, icky. The sky is deceptively pretty:
I need to clean my apartment today, and I hate doing that when it's hot and sticky. I will sweat and fan myself with my shirt. I know that this is a normal response to this situation, but it still makes me feel like I'm turning into my mother.
Okay, now I'll explain the title of this post. I started this blog to record daily stuff for Gator, friends and family when I moved away to start grad school. I emailed the blog address to everyone. If anyone wants to know what's going on with me, it's on my blog. This is really as exciting as it gets. Some of my friends have blogs as well, and I keep up with them. And if I get behind, I go check it out before I email them. That way I don't ask them questions that are answered in their blog. Makes sense, right?
Now, I'm lazy as all get-out, I readily admit it. I also started this blog so that I could write stuff once and everyone could read it, rather than writing it in a dozen individual emails, which would be annoying (to me), or sending a page of mundane crap about myself as a mass mailing to everyone in my address book, which would also be annoying (to them).
So here's where I become a beyotch. It annoys me when sweet people that I love very much email me and ask me what I'm up to and if I'm in Missouri for the summer or if I have to take classes and stay in Wisconsin. I've given this person my blog addy several times. And if you read my blog at all, you know the answers to these questions. I don't want to re-write all my summer activities. Because I'm lazy and selfish. I also don't want to just respond with "It's all in my blog, go read it," because I don't want to appear lazy and selfish.
I don't like this about myself, mind you. But I know myself very well. If I tried to change it -- even if it was the best-intentioned attempt ever -- it wouldn't last. I'd give me about two weeks. Okay, I'm totally lying. I'd give myself three days before I got distracted by the rest of my life and just started being myself again. And myself has become an email bi7ch.