It's not that I hated the old set-up (I liked it! Basic! Easy to fool around with!) but I couldn't set my pictures to 'biggun' size and when I tried to fix it, I.....broke the old template.
So! Here we are. And I (to my surprise; I can be a trifle curmudgeonly when it comes to new-fangled things) .....really like it!
I've got a ten-minute window between cooking and serving dinner, let's see if I can bang out a readable post.
I worked at the hospital today. It was a long, slow (ish) day, which was good because I couldn't find my notes. I've had a little notebook that I've carried around since I started there, with reminders and names of tests and extension numbers and such, and I can't find it.
I managed not to hash anything up, since I remembered passwords from Friday (the last day I worked) but if I go another three month stretch without working there, it's going to be painful.
I need to have another scour around the house, then I'll panic.
And if the external stuff wasn't enough to drive me nuts, the child factor is killing me.
Rosey: (earnestly) You know Friday? The day after my leg hurt and I came home from school and the day I went to the museum and saw all the trees and the toys and made reindeer food? The day before Saturday which was yesterday?
me: (pouring water down my throat in long smooth gulps and wishing it was vodka) ummm...I think?
Rosey: I remember that day.
ARGH! She lay on the floor the other night and told the dog all about her day and read him several books and asked his opinion and babbled on happily for an HOUR. (Much to the dog's consternation. He tried hard to understand but was too fixated on the word 'treat' which didn't fall from her lips once.) Her brother went through this stage when he was three. I thought we were safely away from it, since she's six now.
Hmph. My grandfather nicknamed me 'Bobblegush' when I was about her age.
A girl and her
Jasper: There had better be a Milkbone at the end of this story.
Gasp. You don't think I'm raising a blogger, do you???