A Girl And Her Routine

Can I even use the word "girl" to describe myself?  No.  But I'm going to anyways because I don't think of myself as a woman or lady or even an adult.  Which is a sure sign of dementia but in the spirit of plowing forward...

Every night when I get home, Lucy and I go through the same routine.  I walk in the door, drop my things, and immediately go to feed her and let her out of her cage.

Me:  "Hi Lucy!  Hi sweetie!"

Lucy: [Blink.]

Me:  "How's my girl?  Have you been a good bunny?"

Lucy: [Sniff. Sniff.]

Me:  [Sigh.]

Let's talk about the multitude of things wrong with this picture.  The other day when I was in eighth grade, I looked up to see what time it was, and saw this:

Are you freaking kidding me?  Let the math people have their computer algorithms and their cute little robots hibernating on a distant comet.  Just give me my clock!  Telling time is the one thing I can confidently do with numbers and now they've taken that away from me, too.  This is just sick.

On another note, it is beautiful in my lovely city.  This picture isn't even filtered.  Welcome to what 6:00 a.m. looks like from my library.

I am currently reading three books that I am hitting the pause button on because my copy of Dracula just arrived!  <------ I will fully and completely blame Rapper L if I don't like it, but I think I will, and for whatever reason it's been on my mind since she recommended it which means I must read it immediately.

Three shows that I am over the moon about this season:

Watch it.

Homeland

Watch it.

The Good Wife

Watch it.

Brooklyn Nine Nine

I also think about travel all the time.  Really.  All the time.  When my students are knee deep in tough exercises, I'm picturing this in my mind:

Someone please find me a rich benefactor, pronto.