Don't grumble, give a whistle.

I have a lot of homework to do, but I only have a little over 100 pages of Stone Angel left to read for tomorrow. That is only a third of the book, oh yeah. Trying to be positive here. I don't know what kind of a spin I will put on my Writing In Communities work that hasn't been started at all. Oh, hey! I don't have school on Friday. I will dedicate a portion of a garden to some veterans or something. Is that insensitive? Oh yeah? I don't see you slaughtering native peoples when Columbus Day rolls around, so who are you to judge?

Enough of the positive.
Bah to my mother for her spendthrift ways. That, or bah her for her hatred of teenagers. She is causing me to get fat again.
Explanation - My mother dislikes teenagers who go trick-or-treating and because of her hatred she refuses to give them more than one piece of candy. That factor is combined with her love of buying a wide variety of candies and the habit that young people have of passing by our cul-de-sac on this evening. All of those together cause us to have oodles of leftover candies.
I have already gone through all the licorice and Butterfingers. Next are the peanut M&Ms and the Snickers. I haven't decided what is after that.
My summer weight loss had already started to disapear and now I am speeding the process. I would rather be a 185er than a 205er. Bah.

Oooooh. Treehouse of Horrors number something or other is on.
"Ooh, ah, my Flanderdoodle!"

Peace.