Oh, Friday.

All day long I had it in my head I was going to write a Friday Five post — my five favorite story songs (instigated by hearing “Factory” by Melissa McClelland last night in the car on the drive home). I even had this page up, as an open tab on Chrome, all day. Did I get to it? HAHAHAH, well, you’re reading THIS instead, aren’t you!?

I’m dyeing yarn, so an alarm goes off every 20 minutes to tell me that I need to do something. So I get a little scattered during dye weeks.

I tried to make a late brunch which turned into a full-on lunch when I realized that the reason my macaroni didn’t cook for so long was because the burner on the stove is broken. Can you replace burners inside flat-top ceramic/glass stoves? I guess Google can tell me.

Also I had to call and make a mammogram appointment. My crazy-ass doctor that I’m about to break up with said that she’d call, and that was in … November? And I was supposed to be seen in February. So I called today since clearly she never did. Now I’ll be seen in March. Squish the ta-tas!

I tried to scan something for Tim. I can’t figure out how to get my new super-snazzy fax/copier/scanner/printer to scan to the computer. I think there’s some fucked-up Windows 8 thing where I have to tell the computer I want to scan, I can’t tell the scanner I want to scan…? But I can’t get the computer to acknowledge that it’s a scanner. It tells me it’s a printer, and only a printer, and LALALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU. So I tried to scan it on my photo scanner, which worked JUST FINE for photos about three days ago, but all of a sudden my computer won’t talk to it. “I can’t start that program, Dave.” … So to scan something for Tim, I had to go into his office, use my older scan/copier/printer, scan and wirelessly send myself four PDF’d pages that I compiled on this computer and then emailed back to Tim at the other end of the house. Fucking technology.

I also had a long email back-and-forth with the place we’re going to rent for Aunt Gay and Uncle Joe’s 50th wedding anniversary (we were hoping to have it at whatever house and land we buy, but hahahhaahahahah apparently that’s never going to happen, or never going to not happen, or will drag out like purgatory forever, so fuck it, we’re finding a place. It’s awesome. I can’t wait to tell you.). I’ll be sending out “save the date” emails next week, if you’re a famous writer or card-carrying member of the HaldeClan, keep an eye on your email next week!

And I had a long back-and-forth with a customer friend about a ceramic piece that’s giving me fits. It’s those damn pin-up girl mugs, and I swear they have been more trouble than they’re worth. I’ve got half a mind to break the remaining ones into little pieces and make a mosaic.

And the dogs are making me insane. They don’t want to stay inside, it’s cold inside. They don’t want to go outside alone (and it’s also cold outside). They want me to go outside with them. But there are no space heaters outside (although at least today, for the first day this week, there’s some sunshine). So I keep having to go outside with them for ten minutes at a time, which is frustrating when you’re already feeling discombobulated because of an alarm that goes off every 20 minutes.

Tuesday, when I was packing up a bunch of ceramics to take to a place who wants to sell some of my things (story on that coming soon-ish), I found a bunch of stuff I made for GLAM and never got up on the website… so today is also taking photos and writing listings, in between being interrupted by dogs and alarms for yarn. And I’m trying to list some things that came out of the kiln recently, also.

I am not focusing very well today. I think I’d rather be on the couch with a never-ending supply of fruity rum drinks, some favorite movies, and some knitting, but I also feel like I can’t sit still (that’s probably the alarm, which makes me get up and do something every 20 minutes. Except for Wednesday, I’ve been dyeing every day since Sunday (and I have one more day to go) so my brain is now trained to interrupt itself. If I concentrate on something for 19 minutes, at 19 minutes and thirty seconds my brain goes OH LOOK A CHICKEN. Yay?

I thought there was more I wanted to say but I’ve already forgotten what it was. Blargh.