This woman is not eye candy. She's not even eye brussels sprouts, for fuck's sake. She's eye poison.
Gyaaah.
* * *
I took the Jeep to the DMV to get the bike's license plate sticker, and was pleased to see that they've installed a desk specifically for handling plates now. No waiting in the regular line, then waiting again, then waiting again; you come in, go right to the sticker line, and wait in one line. I was in and out in about ten minutes, which ain't too shabbly.
* * *
There's some kind of low-frequency hum I can barely hear, present with windows open or closed, at all hours, everywhere in the bunker. It sounds like a locomotive running far away, and it was not present a few days ago.
Fortunately I can drown it out with a fan or music, but that completely shoots my whole "quiet time" thing to hell. *sigh*
