rejectomorph | Long Weekend

I just had three pens run out of ink as I was making out my check to LJ for another year of paid service. Could it be an omen? Or is it merely because I haven't gotten my ass to a store to buy a new pen for ages?

I'm going to pretend that I have something very exciting planned for this weekend. In reality, I'm counting on my last remaining cat to keep me entertained between onerous tasks and during Sluggo's periods of unconsciousness. It's always difficult to be stuck in the house this time of year, when everybody else is going places and doing things with the long, bright days. Of course, there will be no fireworks for the holiday in this most flammable place. A few people risk the wrath of the authorities by setting off bottle rockets and such, but I'm not one of them. I will see the diminished representations of the displays on television, and that will be it. Maybe I'll get lucky and there will be a meteor strike nearby, causing a nice, big explosion. Hope springs infernal.

Now I have to get to sleep, so I'll be well rested for my imaginary Big Night!