that or Becky the downstairs maid has the toothache.

I'm pursuing my clever plan to pretend like my roommate and I are capable of interacting like normal human beings by sitting in the living room with my laptop. So far so good (she's at class), except for how much louder the sound of howling wind is out here.

Now, we live on the fourteenth floor, so perhaps a certain amount of howling wind is to be expected--except it's not coming from the windows or the exterior walls. It's coming from the door into our apartment off the corridor. I'm sure there are lots of good reasons for this (chimney effects from six elevator shafts and the trash chute creating weird indoor wind currents, something like that) but it's really weird.

eight is grrrrreat.

Did you think I had wandered off and forgotten the Numb3rs epic-under-construction? I kind of thought I had. Stupid holidays. But!

70,066 words.
157 pages.
And I have finally reached the point where the incidence of italic tags drops off by about 98% YAY!