lydamorehouse: (Default)
OMG, my cat is trying to kill my productivity. Ms. Ball has drapped herself over my arms and is exuding those warm, cozy cat vibes that psychologically compell you to want to sleep, snuggle... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Luckily, I'm irritating her by typing. The tail is twitching. I will win this battle, especially since I've wisely ensconced myself this morning in front of the gerbil cages AND the bird feeder. Something besides lulling me into a stupor is going to interest this cat eventually. Right?

Right?

HELP! Call for reinforcments! I'm going down.

Okay, I broke down and actually pushed her off. My arms are cold. Whine.

Yeah, today is supposed to be my busy day. I've already changed two kitty litter boxes (we have five) and put the recycling out on the curb. I need to do the dishes, change the gerbil bedding (or, as we've been calling them lately, the "stinky mice") and change at least one of the fish tanks. I go to volunteer at Mason's school later today, there's kuk sool wan tonight (first time back since my ankle twist fall), and possibly a Wyrdsmith's meeting.

I wanted to have a short story finished for Wyrdsmiths tonight. I may try to work on it today as a break between chores. It's a horror story in a science fiction setting, and I'm getting to the horror part... which I'm not always very good at. Horror, IMHO, needs a rich atmosphere, full of creepy, subtle details. I've got a corpse in the church, but I'm afraid I need to describe it more. Luckily, there's room. I've only got 4,000 words or so so far and I'm shooting for about 7,000 give or take. I'm really 2/3rds of the way through the plot (I think, you know how these things can change,) so if I say another 1,000 some words would finish it off, that gives me lots of space to go back and layer in that critical creepy atmosphere.

I also realize that I've actually accidentally been writing a response to "Leviathan, Wherefor Art Thou" -- at least from what I can tell, since I haven't read it yet. I may finish mine and then go check it out. But from what other people have said about it, I'm tackling some of the same issues... except from a completely different perspective.

Anyway, I've got to get started on all that stuff.
lydamorehouse: (Default)
My favorite coffee shop is in a mall and thus, doesn't have a public toilet of its very own. The women's bathroom has been under construction for several days now. The nearest alternative requires leaving the building and going to a gas station or a book store. Or... braving the toilet of the opposite sex.

I've always found the insistence that men and women have separate bathrooms a strange relic of some distant past. Not unlike "Colored Only" except that's a REALLY BAD ANALOGY. But listen for a second: I know you guys like your urinals, but, you don't NEED them. Stalls provide privacy for all, regardless of gender. (Also, having now had experience hiding out in a stall waiting for you guys to do your business and leave... urinals seem to encourage bad hygiene. You do your thing and leave. No pause to wash hands. One word, boys: GROSS!) Perhaps if we all shared bathrooms, there would a kind of collective guilt that would cause people of both genders to stop and wash their hands before leaving.

The point is: why do we insist on separating the genders this way? It's not like houses are equipped with two separate bathrooms. Why public places?

Okay, enough of my own personal weirdness, how are you?

Mason didn't want to go to school today. He may have a bit of a sore throat for real (he's been coughing at night), but any excuse for him. It's a different reality. I was very much a big fan of school, but, honestly, I wasn't nearly as smart as Mason. I was a high achiever type, who loved all the projects and such. Mason just wants to stay home and pursue his own interests.

It's also picture re-take day today. His official picture was funky. The photographer decided that kids should smile with their mouths closed. Mason was clearly baffled by this request and his face looks strained and confused. Hopefully, a different photographer will let him laugh, like his kindergarden picture.

Today is Thursday, which means I need to go home in a few minutes and do all my Thursday chores: change the fish tanks, take out recycling, and get ready to go off to volunteer at Mason's school. Tomorrow, you won't see me because I've got plans and they don't include you. Shawn is taking the day off and we're going to pamper ourselves. We need a TGIF.

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