like my ankle

My feet hurt. Very. Very. Much. Ow.

Almost done with The Funeral Planner which has some unfortunate flaws. I imagine they're only flaws if you think like I do, however. Like when the main character gets too wound up and speaks the anti-English, which would be Super!Business? My brain would fry. There's being authentic, and then there's just boring my eyes right out my head. Oi. Second, and infinitely more annoying is towards the end when she starts saying things like, "So what I hear you saying is..." to get people to talk about their grief. I'm sorry, am I the only person who'd look at you [if you said that, or anything too similar] and then smack you? Maybe I am. But it sounds so cold, so canned, so rehearsed.

Moving along, the fun thing about being sick is still being sick and losing a day. Like my brain is still thinking it's Wednesday. No, no it isn't, brain. We're on to Thursday now, which means payday. :D

I'm hoping my mini cosmic duo arrive sometime soon.

Now I'm off to board whore and then forage for food.