Just some Sunday evening texting about worms.

(For the record? These, apparently, are the sea worms she was talking about. Nooooo!!!!!!)

As if spending upwards of fifteen minutes each morning reading random shit on my phone in my bed weren’t bad enough — and, let’s be honest, that’s a minimum, because on a perfect-bed-temperature morning like this one (which means that it’s a little cold with shorts on) it could be, just as an example, a little over an hour — I have realized that I am doing it with the phone three or four inches from my face WITH ONE EYE CLOSED. I mean, I knew I was doing this on some level. I have really bad vision and if I try to read, unaided, with both eyes open, it’s this weird exercise in moving the phone closer and further away until it isn’t blurry, but then it’s just kind of annoyingly far away for holding purposes. And I don’t want to put my glasses on right away because then that feels like I might as well get up. (“How could I get up right now? My GLASSES aren’t even on.” That kind of thing.) So I read with my right eye scrunched closed like a creep and I never thought about it too much because it seemed like a transitional activity. But this morning, I’m afraid, it crossed over, and became something that I was actually doing: reading, for over an hour, with one eye open and one eye closed. 

adulting:

So we already discussed the crab — V.v.V (or, as alert reader penguinperverson put it, an emoticrab)— but here are some more. For science. And productivity. Scientific productivity.

\m/ is the devil’s horns, for congratulatory or Satan-summoning purposes.

+/’\ is a cowbell that rings. Because,…

WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!!!!!

I guess this is maybe not how it’s supposed to be, but the parts I like best in books about hiking — like Wild and A Walk In The Woods, etc. — are the parts where the hikers get off the trail and into the checkpoint towns and they write everything they eat and drink when they get there and how much money they had before and how much they have after. It’s so soothing! Hike 57 miles, or else 94, walk into a little town diner and eat a cheeseburger, and fries, and a Coke, and a pink lemonade, and an ice cream cone. $18 before, $7.25 after. Keep going, get hungry for junk food again, then get to a new town with new cash and new food. They’re always so happy — and romantic, even — about the food. (Especially the ice cream. It’s adorable how much they love the ice cream.) I always feel like you can tell that was the writers’ favorite part to list and describe, even though the trees and things were also very nice. And I almost feel like it hurts me personally each time they set off again, leaving all those snacks behind. But there will be more. You just have to believe. Wow, I am really hungry I think.