all withered and wasted away
Nov. 16th, 2009 11:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thanateIt's a lovely day out, and instead of writing, I'm busy doing things like laundry and dishes and sweeping the kitchen floor. It desperately needs to be mopped, still, and I should do the rest of the house, but it's an improvement.
My hips hurt, and I think it's mostly from too much sitting in hard chairs, or crossing my legs to set my laptop on them. Somewhere in my head I seem to have conflated two different ghost stories and one of those rumplestiltskin-esque fairytales where the girl is saved from ever having to spin again by the old women who've helped her out explaining to her husband(-to-be) that the reason they're horribly misshapen is from to much spinning. I find myself wandering around muttering "too much sitting, too much sitting, all withered and wasted away" in a ghostly voice. So now I am settled on the couch with pillows and my legs stretched out in front of me, only I find that I have forgotten to go out and bring the trash cans in from the street, and I should probably do that before I continue writing.
Today's aquatic factoid: Most occurrences of shark "attacks" on humans are precipitated by the bull shark, which is small, fast, and wanders all over the place (including up estuaries practically into fresh water.) It does not bite maliciously, nor actually think that people are food; it just has the bad habit of taking a bite out of something to *see* if it's food, and if it doesn't taste right, then it'll spit that out again and try something else.
My hips hurt, and I think it's mostly from too much sitting in hard chairs, or crossing my legs to set my laptop on them. Somewhere in my head I seem to have conflated two different ghost stories and one of those rumplestiltskin-esque fairytales where the girl is saved from ever having to spin again by the old women who've helped her out explaining to her husband(-to-be) that the reason they're horribly misshapen is from to much spinning. I find myself wandering around muttering "too much sitting, too much sitting, all withered and wasted away" in a ghostly voice. So now I am settled on the couch with pillows and my legs stretched out in front of me, only I find that I have forgotten to go out and bring the trash cans in from the street, and I should probably do that before I continue writing.
Today's aquatic factoid: Most occurrences of shark "attacks" on humans are precipitated by the bull shark, which is small, fast, and wanders all over the place (including up estuaries practically into fresh water.) It does not bite maliciously, nor actually think that people are food; it just has the bad habit of taking a bite out of something to *see* if it's food, and if it doesn't taste right, then it'll spit that out again and try something else.