Goals...meh.

I didn't get nearly so much accomplished this week.  Not entirely my fault, though--I've been fighting with the class platform all freakin' week.  So, no: I didn't get the cabinets unloaded.  I didn't stay on track with grading (though I did get midterm grades turned in--YAY!!!  It's halfway done!).  I didn't get my textbook revised.  I didn't get Pendragon all the way done, like I was hoping I could.  I didn't get more written in Lost Girls--I got attacked by a rabid, back-story plot bunny, there, and wrote five pages of first draft in about forty minutes. Look for that on the other blog around the end of the week.

So, yeah.  I kinda got fuck-all done.  I fucking hate the distance learning platform.  And campus email.  They're still only working sporadically.

On a different topic, it's raining, here.  Pouring, actually.  It's still pretty warm, but the pup was soaked in the time it took her to dash down the steps and squat next to the front walk to pee. 

And so was I. 

And if I wasn't stiff and painful enough in my hands, trying to hang onto a leash with about 15 pounds of Scotty determined to go the fuck back inside, instead of finding a place to dump a deuce, made my right hand bad off enough that I couldn't close it around the lid of the bourbon bottle. 

So, I used my left hand to get my dose of Granny Clampett's Rheumatism Medicine.  Cheers.