Stumbled back into my apartment about half an hour ago. Because I went to the Vollmann reading, I had to leave work before the daily developer dinner (a bribe to encourage us to consider spending the evening debugging) showed up. Also because I went to the (early evening) Vollmann reading, I cut things pretty close in crossing the lake, on account of wanting to not get caught in the tail end of rush hour, and thus didn't have time for dinner when I got to the bookstore. When I returned to work from the reading, I went directly to the conference room with the leftovers, only to run into the janitor leaving, his rolling trash can piled high with the collected leftovers (Steve told me it was pasta, and not very good past). So I fed some more pennies to the jellybean machine and cursed my fate, and debugged for a while. I figured that when I got back here, I'd make an instant cup-a-soup (Trader Joe's black bean, high in sodium like all members of the cup-a-soup genus, but quite flavorful, for cup-a-soup).
When I opened the fridge to get a drink, though, I noticed the leftovers from Sunday, when Ben and I cooked out of my vegetarian Indian cookbook and then we and Becky gorged ourselves. So, courtesy of my past self, I got to eat a second real meal in a day when I was only expecting one. Curried potatoes with eggplant, tomato chutney (wish there was some of the pineapple-and-raisin chutney left, but we ate it all on Sunday), and a baked banana stuffed with tamarind-flavored coconut (dominant flavor: mint). This helped my mood so immensely. It's always such a pleasure to suddenly be reminded of some favor I've done myself. This morning, before I left, I actually transferred the dirty clothes from my floor into a laundry bag, and thus I came back to a clean bedroom. Ah, joy! Past toil buys present laziness! Usually, when I try to do myself favors, it backfires. Okay, let me put the scissors someplace logical for once, instead of in the box with the spare computer cables, so that when I next need them, they'll be right there. I'm sure everyone knows what happens at this point. Next time I need the scissors, all I can remember is that some past incarnation of me decided to be all sneaky and remove them from the computer-cable box, and now I can't for the life of me remember where he put them, except that he thought it was a pretty logical place at the time. Bastard! He's always one step ahead!
(Don't fear for me, though. I own two pairs of scissors, because I had this problem in the past. One pair stays in the random kitchen junk drawer, always. And I'm sure the other pair will turn up sooner or later.)