So I got new sheets over the weekend, and I can finally give the ones borrowed from Bly back. (Hey, how was I to know I had not a single set of twin sheets to go on the new bed when I gave up my–sigh–waterbed mattress?) I washed them, dried them, and tonight I was making the new bed.
I stripped off the just-in-case afghan at the foot, pulled the pillow out of its case, and pulled off the top sheet. Wondered what the heck that spring was doing in my bed.
It wasn’t a spring. It was most of the pieces of a very dead little silver lizard.
My cat loves me.
No, I’m still not writing much of anything. I still plant myself in front of the computer every day, but mostly I wander through unfinished stuff and try to remember where I was going. Don’t worry. When I get just a little more used to working (and when work gets a little more used to me) I’ll get back at it. I’m thinking I do this every year.
Other times I’m thinking I’ll just kill someone and see if that helps. I can come up with a few candidates.