It’s only been a three-day week, but it’s been a tough one. In addition to being very sore from the weekend, I either had a bad reaction to the sun or the weeds/ivy I was pulling out, or maybe from the seventy-million spiders and other assorted bugs I came into contact with. I developed sores and welts on my arms, my face was sunburned all to hell, and the area under my eyes was all rough and red. Yesterday, my eyes swelled up and it was very uncomfortable. In fact, they’re still swollen (though not quite as bad). Sucks. I just want this week to be over already.

I didn’t intend to, but I somehow found myself watching the big Obama Party last night. I didn’t see Granholm (who I hear was very good), but I did see John Kerry (hey, who knew? Where was that guy in 2004? They said on NPR he’s a likely replacement for Hillary in a second Obama term). And Joe Biden was great, too. People talk a lot of shit about Joe, but I like him. And he didn’t even remark how “clean” Obama is, either.

I didn’t see the big guy, though. It was getting late, and I either went to bed and fell asleep, or I fell asleep, and then went to bed (been sleeping very well the last couple of nights, which is unusual for me, so that’s at least one good thing). But I hear Barry did a good job, as we’ve all come to expect of him.

Harry Shearer summed it up nicely on Twitter:

Obama acceptance, short version: Yes, we really, really can this time, I mean it, and here’s why: GOD BLESS AMERICA!

Unfortunately, the jobs numbers are out today, and they suck. Less than 100,000 jobs, and the unemployment rate down to 8.1% only because people have given up looking. Not promising.

So I get home last night, and I notice somebody had come along and marked the gas line to my house (that runs through my fenced-in back yard) with flags and spray paint. I found this curious, because I wasn’t planning on doing any digging in my back yard (the dogs do plenty of that), and if somebody else was planning on doing something, they really ought to give me a heads up.

So I call the gas company this morning, who tells me to call “Dig Safe,” so I call and talk to Nicole (who is very nice, and sounds kinda cute), who says that Jane Smith (not her real name, but the name of the person who I bought the house from) is having a propane line put in.

Nuh-uh.

So Nicole takes my info and says she’ll call the people doing the work, and she calls me back and says, yeah, they had the wrong address. Good thing I called. Hopefully they wouldn’t have dug up my yard anyway, but who know.

Oh well, I guess I better see if I can pry open my eyes for a while, and get some shit done.