Labor Days

I am by turns devastated and furious over the entire Katrina situation. I cannot escape it either, since everyone knows I used to live there. The endless questions and speculation, overheard conversations in restaurants, inevitable discussions at holiday cookouts.... I'm exhausted by it. I have to think of other things, and so I will.

It wasn't a bad weekend, all told. Did a lot of relaxing, watched some more Firefly, finally finished a book. I've started and tossed aside about six books in recent months. This happens sometimes, long chains of boring garbage that I can't force myself to finish. Hopefully I'll have better luck in the coming weeks.

Killed a scorpion in the hall last night. Damn they are scary. It didn't try to scuttle away or anything, just sat there, waiting for me to smash it with a shoe. It was just a regular one, not the tiny potentially-fatal kind or the giant freaky kind. Still, not happy. Also, for the record: I kill freaking scorpions. There are a number of people in my office who have elaborate capture and release schemes. Me, I smash the damn things with a shoe, because, ew. And no, the wiggins have not worn off yet. I still have a soup of adrenaline swirling in my gut. Because one's last task before bed should not be dispatching scary animals.

I am enjoying Rome, even if the suspense is somewhat dulled by my knowledge of the history. This period of Rome was one of my favorites, along with Tudor England. I love that any decent Rome period piece uses English accents, and how that seems completely correct because we've all been raised on BBC productions with Romans that sounded like Capt. Picard. It would be unbelievably jarring somehow if they didn't sound that way, I think.