I’ve always wondered just how many “words” makes an average printed page, so I looked it up. Apparently that number is roughly 250, with about thirty lines per page. Assuming the average six-by-nine inch book format and a one inch margin, that seems about right. Unfortunately it also means my page count estimates have been the product of pure fantasy.
Well, half of my kitchen sink is missing, stolen by the maintenance man for my building. Why? Because half the pipes were filthy, rusted amalgamations of leaky steel. My sink leaked, badly. Running any water through it, via dishwasher, or just through the main drains, would result in water dumping all over the storage area underneath. Judging by the pipes he showed me, this has been happening for months, and the previous occupant never noticed. I was clued-in by wet garbage bags and the fact that the bottom of the sink cabinet was warped crazily. Well, I guess it’s good I found it before things got really bad. I just hope the guy comes back tomorrow so I can actually use my kitchen sink.
It’s been a long week, and my vacation is finally over. Late Saturday night, early Sunday morning–either tell me it’s a weekend just like any other. I relaxed, I finally got the chance to enjoy Wicked, and I tooled around downtown gulping food I don’t deserve with a woman equally beyond my reach. I got drunk, I got sick, I had fun, and I’ve got little to show for it but some new rattles in my empty head.
Well, I’ve had one of the busiest weekends on record. The TV is absolutely gorgeous. I tested out a few movies, anime, and hooked it to the media PC and so far, even from ridiculous angles where it washes out ever so slightly, it’s better than my 32" tube ever was.
Yikes! Move from one apartment to another, and suddenly things just go to hell. I’ve managed (barely) to keep up with Rabbit Rue, but all my other activities have seemed to suffer. And then of course, they had to release the end of Harry Potter, and my weekend was pretty much shot.