'Ff'lo (fflo) wrote,

I went into the study closet.

There's some schmutz that falls from the ceiling in there and gets on the stuff on the shelves, and further down, too.  The dog ate some of it.  I got a lot in my hair when pulling out the compact OED (to see if I can sell it?) and just took an unscheduled shower to feel free of it.  It's cooling down from a nasty hot day out there.  And now I have a few more boxes of stuff in the living room to go through and price.  So maybe I won't get to the grabbags of office supplies.  Or maybe I'll only get to a few.  Did find the large Ziplock I'd started to fill with pens I'm not that crazy about myself personally but you might like, c'mon down to my office yard sale, in the morning, oh except this is garage sale territory I think, that is, our craigslist has it under "garage", but maybe that's cuz Craig and/or San Fran calls it that?

So the study/nursery( for foster kittens)/guest room is a wreck now, and will be for a while, I imagine.  But I gleaned some stuff.  And I'll glean more from what I grabbed out of there and haven't gone through.

Completed my JoJo compilation playlist last night, finally.  For a coupla cuts I couldn't procure by other means (except for firing up the record player) I used a youtube-to-mp3 thingie online.  That's a handy thingie.  Did you know about such thingies?

    ♪♫  Fender Stratocaster ...  

Geez, I gotta go sit and price.  And get to the office earlier than I usually get there for work.  To make a few bucks.  Maybe more than a few bucks, but no way the hundreds I've made before.  Lack of big-ticket items.

I'm feeling irritated a little just now about not being able to talk about stuff.  I think there's a petulant child in me, maybe.  Among other sources.

Oh, JoJo.  After fishing through a lot of songs of yours that don't so much do it for me, I have found quite a few that do.  And some of them are a little on the simple mushy side.

    ♬  To win in love you must 
      ♪  Surrender   ♪♫

And then there's always the likes of

    Does she cook beans?
    Does she cook rice?
    Does she do ritual sacrifice?

Hahaha, Jonathan.

His song about having a crush on the new bank teller remains one of my favorite little rock-pop cuts.

But what am I doing, making a random-ish sentence or two about my passion for the fella here, when things to price are calling me from the other room, and the dog has digested her dinner and is ready to lie around knawing on something while we have some crap TV on and declare 50 cents vs. a dollar.
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