Beer, Beans And Tuna

I find myself running out of names for blog posts, which is probably why it's a good thing I'm not a copywriter or an editor trying to come up with headlines. In a last-ditch effort to be original, I named this one after my dinner: Shiner 99 beer, tuna and white bean bruschetta.

On a side note, how long can bottled beer be stored before it goes skunky? I really liked last year's 99, so I bought five six-packs or so, but I rarely drink at home. I've been keeping them at the back of my closet, along with my skeletons and my sister's gay cat, and they're still good but now I'm afraid I need to drink them all within the next six months or they'll be gross.

Anyway. Today we finished a health care focus at the Big BP, and it was also Dan's first day at his new job. The health care issues, as anyone who listens to me bitch knows, are a pain in my ass, and today's was especially bad because I had this monster story that defied logic and didn't fit anywhere. All morning I was freaking starving, so I kept snacking, and then all afternoon I had a headache. I took three extra-strength Tylenol from my desk stash, I'm drinking beer now, and if it doesn't go away but the time I go to bed, I'll pilfer the leftover painkillers from old prescriptions. (I guess another question would be how long those prescriptions stay good. The last thing I need is to end up sick because I took funky Vicodin or something.)

Journalism continues to be a bitch. To distract myself, I'm checking out and reading a lot of fiction from the library and entertaining my fantasies of becoming an author, and I'm also hoarding measuring cups and kitchen towels, preparing for the move. (One week! Today I even arranged to have Charter come set up my internet the day after I move in, so I'm feeling proud of myself. Now, if I can only get electricity.)

I think things are ending on a relatively good note with my sister, too, which is nice. Our relationship has been all over the place since she graduated college and then threw all her ambitions to the wind, and yesterday we had a good, civil, friendly talk. It sounds like she'll be moving only about a quarter mile from where I'll be living, so that will be nice. I shouldn't keep tabs on her, but I kinda do. It's an older sister thing. I just feel like if I don't, no one else in the can, so she could drift away and there'd be nothing anyone else could do.

Hm. I'm realizing that I don't really have much to say today. Not that I ever have much to say--even when I'm on my soapbox, my rants probably don't matter to more than, say, five people on the planet at any given time. But that's cool. Beer makes me all talky, so I'm taking it out on the interwebs. Unfortunate. Next week, though, when I'm in the midst of moving, I'm sure I'll have plenty to write about. I've moved enough times to know that every move is a pain in the ass, even the little ones across town.