Bah. Keep getting a time-out error when I try to update my template. *sticks tongue out at Blogger, flips off Dreamhost*

I always love it when people just refuse to accept that you really don’t give a shit about something trivial. “Is that bothering you?” Not really. “Do you want me to put the shade down?” I don’t care. “Here, I’ll just–so you don’t get a glare…” It doesn’t matter. “Is that better?” Whatever. I mean, its nice of her to do it, god knows I don’t like light, but I’m just checking email and doing a quick skim of Candy’s LJ, I won’t be here that long and I. don’t. care. Why is that hard to comprehend?

I keep forgetting this is Challenge weekend. I think its self-defense, really. This is the closest its ever been held to where I am, and Glory would’ve been visiting afterwards, except I’ll never get to go no matter how close it is and Glory’s trip got FUBARed. Which means nothing but pathetically waiting for updates on LJ (and more pathetically hoping they include Timbertrickiness) and, should my book arrive, burying myself in HBP and hoping JK has let Harry get the fuck over himself. Or at least signed him up for some anger management courses. I’d like to go into the final book with at least some shred of affection for the hero, y’know?

And its thundering again. Yay. Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.