Stiffer'n an adolescent boy's penis upon his first discovery of lingerie magazines, my legs're causing me no end of grief today.
I'm loving every agonizing departure from my chair.
I won't be sittin' in it for much longer. Dunno which desk I'm going to end up at in a couple of weeks, but who cares?
It's not going to be this one. *grin*
Half my books are home already, a few more are stuffed into John's obnoxiously red McGill backpack, there's only a handful left after that.
ZKS is supposed to call in an hour, we'll see what they have to say.
In the meantime, I'm bored out of my skull and desperately trying to resist starting a new MUD or MUSH. (some people are just bad influences, the slacking bastards ;)
They're trying to squeeeze one last ounce of work out of me, and to make cf's life easier, I just might consider it.
In the meantime, I'm catching up on e-mail.
And enjoying watching the new guy run in circles (sucker. hah!) and enjoying the mesmerizing glow of da moniter.
Mmmmmmmesmerized.
Now all I want is more hugs. :)
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Addendum
Marn just named my dick, Sir Lancelot. I like to think it's because I get to lance-a-lot-of-________ with it, but she says it's cuz I'm into myths (and mythters).
Ahem. Thought occurs, you may not know about my hulking black behemoth. Eric gave it to me for my birthday. Long, black, and wobbly, it straps firmly into place and gives me that feeling of sheer numbness in da brainy regions. ;)
*grin*
And now it has a name.
Go on, ask marn to name yours! If she can't do it, no one can... (or if'n it's already named, she'd sure like to know what it's called. she's odd that way. ;)