Today, I am simply incapable of doing anything well, adequately or just plain right. Seriously, just now, I'm making brownies to be ready for when Jen gets home. And not like greatest-boyfriend-in-the-universe homemade from scratch brownies; just mix in a box brownies. Just nice, nothing really special. So, like I dump the oil and the water and the mix and the little chocolate package into the big mixing cup that's de riguer for mixing in Casa del Buttons and I'm mixing away and it's like cement in the mixing cup, dark brown chunky cement and I can barely get a spoon through it and it's working it's way into a big 'ol ball and I'm like, shit, these are gonna be GREAT brownies, all like thick and rich and blah, blah, blah and so I'm looking at the box for cooking instructions and I see a picture of eggs on the box and just stand there, looking at the pictures of the eggs and see, in the pictographic, written for complete idiots ingredients list, that two eggs are called for. *Sigh* So I crack a couple of eggs into my brown cement and watch them goo the outside of the big ball but not really making any headway into becoming a part of the big brown cement fudge ball so I go after the ball with like three different spoons, hacking and slashing at the thing until I get it spread out enough to accept some egg and it softens enough to take the eggs (catching a piece of shell in the process) and so I get it to act more like brownie batter than like a medicine ball made out of semi-dry brownie batter mix and I'm so happy and proud of myself for fixing that fubar that I start to spoon the batter into the pan without greasing the pan first and realize it when the pan's about half full, so I end up spraying Pam into the part of the pan that doesn't have brownie mix on it already and then trying to tilt the pan and scrape the part that does have brownie mix on it to the side that's now greased so I can grease the other side. Which may or may not have worked. We'll see in about ten minutes.

And this morning I overslept by about an hour and ended up having to take a friggin' taxi to work ($15.50 & a $2 tip, fer Christ's sake), and then made numerous small but time-wasting and soul-killing mistakes at work and then on the way over-crowded bus on the way home the overhead vent was open (Christ knows why it was open while it was raining) and I ended up getting about a gallon of cold Seattle rainwater dumped on pages 24 & 25 of my copy of THE BUTCHER BOY before I figured out how to close the fucking thing.

But my baby's home and the brownies have about 10 minutes to go and I just wrote 4 pages about hating angels and what happens when they get one of their wings ripped off, so everything's relatively cool.

G'night, y'all. Hold your love tight and dream sweet.