My God, that look in her eyes after she shaved her melon clean; the one shot where she's looking directly at the camera (and by extension, you).
She reminds me of Anthony Hopkins when we first saw him as Hannibal Lechter in 'Silence of the Lambs'. I mean, sooo far gone there's not a jet engine that can bring her back.
And for some reason, this makes her of interest to me now. Never did care for her before. Must have something to do with my interest/future career in psychology. I hope that's it, anyway, or I don't want to even try to guess what might be going on inside otherwise.
Upper respiratory thing's in its death throes. The Mrs. left Bubba with her sister and drove up to CT. to visit friends, and I stayed behind and slept the afternoon away. After this, I was feeling MUCH better (especially the ebbing of the back and muscle aches - those are the fucking worst). Hopefully, will take said Bubba out this week to park a few times to make up for being homebound all last week. No promises, though: I'm still a lazy bastard.
Speaking of lazy, I'm still just pecking that 'mageOPS'. Good news is that I've got a broader sense of the books direction now, so hopefully that will speed things up some.
You ever have one of those Homedics chair rests with the heat and massage? Let me tell you, you need one. This thing's great. The company's rock waterfalls and crap like that I can do without, but this thing is soothing.
Still don't know what to do about my money woes, though. I suppose if push came to shove I could find another job and work at it until the next horrific incident, but I've done that twice already and - silly me - the fun's kinda been sucked out of that particular path.
I really need a civil service job.
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