Someone mistakenly put two boxes of books in the living room, and they actually belong downstairs in my office. So today's self-bribery: One load of books hauled down and put away, one level of Bejeweled played on the computer. We'll see how that goes. (Self-bribery is the only way I get ANYTHING done, and I've got to find an alternative to cake.) I originally thought it was ONE box of books and was rejoicing Saturday when I finished it up. Then I started opening the boxes left to see what else I had to deal with, and, fuck, there was another box of books.
Stray boxes of books. Yeah, that's so rare when we move.
Oh, and I have a migraine today. I've recently figured out that caffeine triggers them (shock!) and so I've been limiting my intake. So lately, getting a migraine is good news. It means ALL THE TEA I CAN DRINK! Hey, if I've got a migraine anyway, why not?
Just found a $40 pair of gloves. Not the $40 pair I bought last winter; ones I thought were lost. Apparently they were lost in a moving box. Now I've got two pairs of expensive gloves. Yay? Well, my hands will be really warm next winter. Though even after I lose one pair, I'll never be sure if they're Truly Lost or just hiding somewhere. Again.
Need more caffeine.
Making a separate stack of books I want to re-read. Oh, this won't take long at all.
Husbeast and Goober arguing over TV. About to ground both of them.
Box emptied. Still a pile of books upstairs that I want to read again. Well, it about half worked.
Looking at the lair, I keep thinking if everyone would just leave me the hell alone for a week, I could knock it into shape. Haven't they done studies showing that constant interruption is hell on productivity? I've got a potential case study, RIGHT HERE.
Found an 18"x12"x12" box entirely full of loose photographs. No idea where in hell it came from. I know the people in the pictures, though, so I guess it wasn't a mixup.
Husbeast talking about putting a mirror on the ceiling of the guest room.
Now making tea by the pot.
Need to knit a tea cosy. And a mixer cosy. And...
Pot of tea made. Drinking while contemplating the weirdness of the universe.
Pile of floppy discs thrown out. Feeling old, and/or geeky. Pretty sure both.
It's faintly possible, barely, that I've had too much caffeine.
Trying to find the energy to shelve some stuff in my office. Doing it will require hauling a ladder or step-stool inside from the garage. Hence the distinct lack of motivation. Maybe I'll have more tea.
Self-bribery works better when I'm bribing myself with cake. Which probably doesn't surprise anyone, but I'm throwing the info on out there, anyway.
Whining child is whining.
Thinking about baking bread. Can you say 'avoidance'? Hey. I could bake a CAKE, couldn't I?
Husbeast started a load of laundry and went to work. Contemplating homicide.
Did I mention the husbeast is on nights? Meaning our schedules are all fucked up. Meaning, oh yeah, NOTHING IS GETTING DONE!
Fuck it. Going out on back porch with kid, to play for a while.
Wait. Husbeast is folding the laundry. Canceling mulch plans.
AAAAAAAH! SUNLIGHT YOU FUCKER!!!
Friend helpfully sent me a link to the Vogue Knitting fall preview. Ha ha. I'm surrounded by smart-asses. (Do not ask me if I'm looking in a mirror, thank you.)
Child humming the theme from Rawhide, or a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta. Not sure which.
Now have theme from Rawhide stuck in my head. Damn. It.
Screw it. Day declared a wash. Gonna go read some of those books and have another go at the living room tomorrow.
How's that for an exciting blog post?
Still want cake.