I need new knives.

Since February has been a very "money spendy" month for me, I guess I should wait until I get my next paycheck to run out and buy meself some knives.

When Kevin's grandfather died, I (briefly) inherited a wonderful set of Henckel's knives, which I lovingly sharpened, and then lovingly threw in the dishwasher (you're not supposed to do that.) When Kevin left, so did the knives.

That was a very sad day. I loved those knives.

Well, he's been gone for about six months now, and wouldn't you know it? I haven't bought myself a new set of knives. I've also all but stopped cooking... I have a Henckles carving knive and fork (Oh-so-useful... right.) but the knives that I'm currently threatening people with are crappy Farberware knives that I bought in college. I have a paring knife, a serrated knife, and what can only be described as sort of a fillet-cum-chef's knife... that sucks.

Anyhoo... I think maybe next weekend I'll buy some knives. By that time, (hopefully) my new TV stand will have come (unshattered.) and then I can start having people over again, because I won't be ashamed that my TV has been sitting on the floor of my living room since September. Having people over will facilitate needing knives, because, you know, you can't cook and chop with shitty knives.

Yes. Knives.

Excellent.

Damnit.

I have that cough. I knew when the client was hacking his brains up during the FOUR HOUR meeting I had with him I'd get sick, even though I immediately washed my hands after he was gone, and refrained from touching my mouth. This is just a bad weekend to be sick. Too many friends are in town.

Boo.