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August 10, 2002 // 9:22 p.m. // There is no room at the Inn
First of all, am I the only person who thinks Andrew is a genius for adding the thing that allows you to see who has added you as a favorite or who has changed their profile comment on you? As much as I hate the occasional Diaryland problems, sometimes he's a genius. Pure genius.
Secondly, it's 88 degrees in here, and yet nobody wants to turn on the microwave oven looking contraption that has become our air conditioning due to the fact that we decided not to fix the swamp cooler motor. Ten bucks says we won't fix it until next summer. It would be nice to turn on right now, and not just because it's 88 degrees in here. It's right behind me, meaning I'd get the full force of the cold air blowing right at me. How sweet that would be. And even though my mom wouldn't feel one bit of the cool air, she'd get up and turn it off. The reason the contraption is behind me, is I'm using the living room computer. Reason being my dad was using computer B, and my mom was on computer A. I need not remind you that the only light in the living room right now is the light of the screen, which is why there will likely be plenty of typos. All my thoughts are jumbled and random today, perhaps more than usual. I tried to complete a project by spreading newspapers all over the floor in the too small of a room, and for the full half an hour that I worked on it, my dad was on the computer, thus limiting my space from a full floor to a two foot by two foot square. Try accomplishing a task when someone is sitting at a computer in the center of a room. And just like I predicted, as soon as I finished and grew completely frustrated, he got off the computer, almost like the ultimate slap in the face. I'm realizing that my family doesn't have that personal space bubble that most people seem to have. For instance, we have two computers right next to each other, and often have three to four people on the four feet of available space on the settee. Three to four people in four feet of space is just a little too invasive for me. So is five people in a car. It's why I spend so much time in my room. At least there I have some space. Shoot. 9:20. I missed the TV show. And once again, I forgot to register for school. I'm so screwed. I had one or two or three or four or five more things, but they can wait. This is already to random and rambling as it is.