Well, nobody gave me eggs today

...so the blogging'll be a little more run-of-the-mill.

Still no word on the house up the street, and the landlady wants a month's notice as of the first of any given month...so now that we've paid for October and not given notice, I guess we're here till at least the end of November. (Although in truth, if the other place opens up, we'll snag it even if we're still paying rent here. It'll save us money in the long run and I'm so ready to have the shared space and all that it entails.)

In even more riveting blogging news, I bought a new kind of laundry detergent yesterday and the scent coming from the unopened bag was so strong and irritating I had to take it out of the house. And then I had to go downstairs to the garage, where I had set it on the hood of the car, and wrap it in a plastic bag because it was still bothering me. It's clearly some sort of chemical sensitivity thing, not just the scent, but yow. Guess I'll go back to my orange scented whatever it was. At least that never burned my trachea from three rooms away.

Lessee, what else?

Watched some Muppets with Julia last night. In one sketch, Sandy Duncan sat in a sunset-y country meadow with Kermit and sang "Do you remember/That time of September?" In another one, she pounded seven whiskey sours (no word on why she eschewed the eighth one, which was sitting right there) and had her skirt ripped off by giant purple monsters. While dancing.