Kevin's dad is coming to town for a conference this weekend; he arrives in town tomorrow. Yes, this means I feel the need to clean the whole apartment, and no, he probably doesn't care. We're sadly lacking in coffee table tops, since they're off at the glass cutters. It makes our living room look a little silly, not to mention less functional. Kevin's pile o'stuff is now on the floor next to the chair he usually works in, rather than on the end table. I would sigh, but it's entirely my own fault. The glass cutting could have waited until after we stopped having guests -- but on the other hand, after Kev's dad, Kam will be in town, and after that my little sister and her boyfriend will be visiting us, and that takes us to mid-October, and then it's the crazy rush of preparing for World Fantasy, and then it's World Fantasy, and then it's WindyCon, and then it's mid-November already and we're still banging our thighs on overlarge tabletops and my parents will be coming to town not long after that for Christmas at my aunt's. So maybe it's just as well that I took the table tops to the glass cutter's yesterday.
That was something of an adventure. I put them in my car, and then drove there, which involved getting on the highway and changing many lanes and mad adrenaline rushes. I am less scared of actually driving my car -- driving it around the block is almost kind of fun at this point. But getting on and off the highway and changing lanes is still quite terrifying. I could just avoid it entirely, but that would be the wimpy option. I'm only allowed to be wimpy half the days of the week. The other days, I have to just cope. So there. I ended up getting lost multiple times (the first time, I couldn't get over to my exit in time, so I took the next one and got thoroughly lost in a maze of twisty little passages), and since I went up to Devon after that to buy Indian groceries, I probably spent about three hours driving yesterday (plus shopping time and time talking to the glass guy, who might not even have agreed to do my piddly little job if I hadn't flirted with him, sigh...at least he was cute). Tiring. I rewarded myself with a samosa while up on Devon (very yummy). Coming back was actually pretty straightforward and quick; if I hadn't made any mistakes, I think I could have gotten home at least an hour earlier. Oh well. The practice is good, I keep telling myself.
No driving today, I think. Paying bills, cleaning some more, continuing to read Shelly Jackson's The Melancholy of Anatomy (Tiptree book). Might work on Debbie's presents. Tomorrow, I need to write. No, really.