so this is strange
Aug. 19th, 2002 04:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aruanThere's being walked in on while one is reading slash.
One thing.
Quite another is being in the middle of the smut part and hearing a knock on one's bedroom door, answering it, and finding a pair of burly, uniform-clad men on one's doorstep. I was so utterly frazzled that everything they said came through with about a second's delay. Maintenance. Window. Light fixture. Where's the remote for the television menu so we can check the cable?
Minimizing windows becomes a finely-honed skill most everyone with an Internet connection masters for one reason or another. Amidst the chaos, however, I forgot to turn off WinAmp, which, having my entire song collection on Shuffle, of course chooses to serve up the West End Boys's version of "It's Raining Men." Yes kids, the version they used on Queer As Folk. So there was pouncing when I actually realized this and (somewhat) promptly rectified. Ahem. Corrected.
Looking for something else, anything else, to occupy my refried brain, my hand wandered unconsciously to the water bottle on my desk. Aquafina in the portable 16.9 ounce size, and strangely long and thin and I nearly choked on the sip of water when I realized it all in a flash that hadn't occured yesterday when mum and I bought them at Publix.
Alright, sufficiently off-balanced and oh god, am I seriously wearing my pink flannel onesie, must do something, hey, why not surf the net for tonight's television listings? Because I was halfway to my knees before the brain kicked in again - they'd borrowed my chair to stand on for the aforementioned fixture and the desk is too low to bend over it, which would only be the second worst position I could possibly be in at this moment in time.
I settled for sitting Indian-style on my (thankfully made) bed until they finished. Hopefully the blush will subside in a timely fashion - it almost matches my hair, and I'm fairly certain that's not what they have in mind when they talk about coordinating one's colors.
One thing.
Quite another is being in the middle of the smut part and hearing a knock on one's bedroom door, answering it, and finding a pair of burly, uniform-clad men on one's doorstep. I was so utterly frazzled that everything they said came through with about a second's delay. Maintenance. Window. Light fixture. Where's the remote for the television menu so we can check the cable?
Minimizing windows becomes a finely-honed skill most everyone with an Internet connection masters for one reason or another. Amidst the chaos, however, I forgot to turn off WinAmp, which, having my entire song collection on Shuffle, of course chooses to serve up the West End Boys's version of "It's Raining Men." Yes kids, the version they used on Queer As Folk. So there was pouncing when I actually realized this and (somewhat) promptly rectified. Ahem. Corrected.
Looking for something else, anything else, to occupy my refried brain, my hand wandered unconsciously to the water bottle on my desk. Aquafina in the portable 16.9 ounce size, and strangely long and thin and I nearly choked on the sip of water when I realized it all in a flash that hadn't occured yesterday when mum and I bought them at Publix.
Alright, sufficiently off-balanced and oh god, am I seriously wearing my pink flannel onesie, must do something, hey, why not surf the net for tonight's television listings? Because I was halfway to my knees before the brain kicked in again - they'd borrowed my chair to stand on for the aforementioned fixture and the desk is too low to bend over it, which would only be the second worst position I could possibly be in at this moment in time.
I settled for sitting Indian-style on my (thankfully made) bed until they finished. Hopefully the blush will subside in a timely fashion - it almost matches my hair, and I'm fairly certain that's not what they have in mind when they talk about coordinating one's colors.
