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Work, work, work...

I swept four rooms out of twelve. And there is enough debris from that to fill a dumpster. Unsorted, of course. In the midst of that mountain of scrattle, there is laundry, dishwashing, and the occasional useful thing. The rest of it is going out of the house because it was left on the floor. The family obviously doesn't care what happens to it.

My back hurts. Mayhem is sick at home, today. Some lurgi has him fast in its grip. He is helping me deal with that mountain, today. And if he is still ill tomorrow, I'm dragging him to the quack to see WTF.

Chaos has the dentist this afternoon, and I already know what they're going to recommend. And I'm going to have to make sure it happens because literally nobody else will.

And I'm already on low-bat mode today, and I'm out of pea&ham soup.

Bleh.

Can I please have a telepathically-controlled robo-me who can do the things I don't have the energy for?

And my Beloved spent another night working late. I'm letting them sleep as much as they need to, this morning. Which is probably going to cost another late night.

Sigh.

I have a list of potential agents - yay. What I need to do is figure out which ones are most likely to be amenable to my randomness and campaign at them from most-likable to least-likable. Boo.

And every single one of them has a different set of hoops to jump through. Such fun [/sarcasm].

If I can't have a robo-me, can I at least have a nice, soft, and comfy hidey-hole? I need me a li'l somethin'.