Week 229: lack of rizz
More than the usual amount of going to consult various different experts (accountant, dentist, bicycle mechanic) this week. Booked to see the dental hygienist next year, by which time of course my excellent brushing will have made my gums so healthy I won’t need to see the dental hygienist, just as I’d mostly fixed the bike myself between booking an appointment last week and the appointment this week.
I slightly hoped the accountant would try to suggest some dodgy tax-avoidance schemes, just so I could haughtily reject them. The only sort-of thing was suggesting, as accountants are wont to do, shifting some income to one’s spouse or other significant other – dodgy, but mainly just a reminder of one’s lack of rizz, but it did remind me of (Don’t Get Done Get Dom’s) Dom Littlewood asking “you married?”.
Cleaned all the glass around the balcony here – which I promise is less fancy-pants than it sounds – all the better to see the spectacular splatter of bird poo on the other side of the glass. On returning indoors, found I’d gone temporarily blind – it was unusually bright out there – so that’s why they say not to clean windows in the sun, not just because the rays’ drying effect leaves streaks. But actually the effect of the ocular damage was fun in a trippy sort of way.
Some work. Suddenly, I felt ready to release my unusually large clump of tightly-coupled changes into the world – on a Friday, which some squares say is a bad day to do such a thing, but never mind them. I did, and I got some useful feedback, some of it positive, and it’s nice that people care so much. Later I decided to roll-back the changes for now, which is fine actually.
Vampire Weekend are overrated.