Entry tags:
False Advertising
So, I woke up this morning with the palm of my right hand itching, which, asyouknowBob, is a sign that money will soon cross it.
Alas, my psyche got its signals mixed. What it had really meant to convey was the fact that my monitor had died the True Death on the overnight and I was destined to part with money at the local Staples in order to be able to read the morning comics.
Silver lining: The new screen is a twenty-two-incher, nice and bright; really, I could have used this the other day when I was doing all that layout. And, hey! I can see all of a Live Journal page without having to scroll from side to side (yes, I do keep my resolution that fat; nearsighedness isn't for sissies.)
Steve is cooking lunch; after, I'll put my desk back together and then get on with my day.
Alas, my psyche got its signals mixed. What it had really meant to convey was the fact that my monitor had died the True Death on the overnight and I was destined to part with money at the local Staples in order to be able to read the morning comics.
Silver lining: The new screen is a twenty-two-incher, nice and bright; really, I could have used this the other day when I was doing all that layout. And, hey! I can see all of a Live Journal page without having to scroll from side to side (yes, I do keep my resolution that fat; nearsighedness isn't for sissies.)
Steve is cooking lunch; after, I'll put my desk back together and then get on with my day.