Translation? The box in which my much-mentioned birthday printer/scanner thingie came is now open. It has yet to leap out on its own, however, to connect and install itself. I can only assume this is because it is a refurbished model rather than a brand new one, since surely science and technology has advanced in this direction by now; has it not?
Incidentally, I have not told you this, Internets, but in the past month, I have gone on approximately eight dates with the same person. I know! Shocking, right? Unfortunately, when he asked what I was doing this weekend, I explained my plans for last night and then fabricated some imaginary plans for tonight.* In other words, I decided I would rather drink Cotes du Rhone alone in my yoga pants and gray hoodie and work on my instruction manual-reading skills than spend another evening with this man. That's not good, right? That's probably a clear-cut sign that I'm not feelin' it? I have problems, people. I just need to better pinpoint what they are.
[Note to any would-be helpful advice-givers out there: You really don't need to tell me what my problems are. Trust me; I have a rather lengthy list going on my own.]
OK, there is really no particular point to this post other than to procrastinate even longer on this likely very simple task--a task I should actually want to complete, as it benefits only me. Well, me and anyone just dying to see the much-hyped artist's rendering of my unfortunate blue satin discount prom dress from Deb. I will really have to find some excuse to visit my parents sometime before Thanksgiving. I highly doubt I can do justice to such things on my own.
Who was it who said staying in on Saturday night is the new Going Out? I'm so all over that, obviously.
* In truth, I had some tentative maybe-plans for this evening, but rainy weather and my sporadically antisocial nature made me decide to skip out on those.