Drag my feet along the floor
Oh, Monday, you're so ... sudden. Even though I was expecting you. I was not expecting the 4 a.m. wake-up call from Millie, which turned into a minor clusterf*$# as both cats have figured out that when I'm building the little fort of shoe boxes outside the door it's the beginning of kicking them out of the bedroom. So they kept running past me back in. In the dark. They're black cats. Gah. (The shoe box fort is to keep them from making a bigger hole in the carpet. They don't scratch the door itself, but pull at the carpet, which is BAD KITTY. Well, so would scratching the door be, but sigh anyway.) I also did not expect continuing bad kitties when I got up to feed them at 715 - after several rounds of "STOP IT! BAD CAT!" being hissed and strangle-shouted at the door as they tried to wake me earlier - I found that they'd knocked over my vase of cheerful carnations that I'd bought myself yesterday, and there was water all over the table. Luckily, the vase did not break, and the table did not appear to be ruined. But I was most wroth, and tired, and cranky. Hooray Monday.
I did not pack up the kitchen this past weekend, so I failed in that plan. Meh. I did manage to get some basic cleaning done, and go through some more things to get rid of, and I even went to yoga yesterday morning at the studio. Which turned into a stretch and chat with myself and Laurel, as no one else showed up, so she was just walking me through positions and stretches and giving me an unscheduled private lesson, really. I do think I'll try to make it to that on Sundays from now on, as my tendons have been strenuously suggesting that I am far too tense and I need to stretch more. So we'll see how it goes. 930 doesn't sound that early, until it's Sunday morning, and you're exhausted and want nothing more than to sleep until 9 or so, but you have to get up and eat before 845 so that you aren't sick during class, and be ready to leave the house at 910. I know, hard life. But I am so not a morning person.
The weekend started with all these grand plans. Friday night was busy, as we went from office party (Scott's employer) to feed a friend's cats, to feed our cats, to Clarion party. That last included a very long walk up a very steep hill - well, it was not so long as all that, but plenty steep - as we'd miscued where it was and parked further away than intended. The party was nice, the house was really quite something, up on the top of Queen Anne with a gorgeous view, and we went home tired. Cue up Saturday.
Saturday started with a run to my friend's house to feed her cats again, breakfast time. One of them, the eldest at oh, I think she's 19 or so, wasn't with the others when I did a head count. There are five cats, but only one smokey gray, and so I panicked, calling for her, looking for her, desperately hoping I would not have make a horrific phone call ... and she was asleep on Michelle's bed. I walked up to her, heart in my throat, and when I was just a foot away, she sprang up, startled and confused, and I leaned on the wall and breathed in relief. Yeesh. OK cats, let's all go be quiet and eat nicely.
A couple hours later I went to dance, which was fantastic. The studio had a "Class in the Grass" day, where we had modern class out at Greenlake park for two hours, outside in the sunshine. Luckily there was some sunshine, or it would have been COLD. But the sun came out, and I had sunblock and my short sleeved Exit Space hoodie on, and I felt prepared. We ran, we pranced, we jumped A LOT, we partnered up and did weight-sharing and lifts and cartwheels and headstands, and boy, am I still sore. Which is part of why I was motivated to go to yoga yesterday - all of my muscles were crying "Help ME!" in a little The Fly voice, and they still are, but less so. But it was good, and it felt good.
After that I was pretty much done for doing anything the rest of the day, which is why nothing got packed on Saturday. Then Saturday night we went to see "Despicable Me" at the Cinnebarre, and it was SOOOOOO CUTE and funny. I laughed a lot. I awwed a lot. I leaned over to Scott and cackled "Boogie Robots" on more than one occasion, unable to control myself. That last one will probably be a continuing trend. Because that's the way I roll. I'd totally see it again.
Sunday started with the yoga, and then I ran a couple errand and went home, and ate food, and ... didn't move off of the couch for several hours. I read a book. I watched some pointless tv. I thought about all the stuff that needed to get done. (Scott was at a soccer game, and so not there to help motivate.) Finally about 4 p.m. I managed to convince myself to get some stuff done in 15 minute increments. I cleaned the bathroom for 15 minutes. Then I did dishes/cleaned the kitchen for 15 minutes. Then I picked up for 15 minutes. This got the place into a "I can live with that" sort of shape, and I felt less disgusting. But I did not pack. I did put a few dishes and a few sheets and posters into a pile to give away. But that's it. Oh well. Better luck next weekend. Because the weekend after that, we move!
The new-new phone should come today. Yay. Scott is at home waiting for it, and also the Salvation Army truck, which is taking away unwanted furniture and random crap. We hold out some hope that they'll take the water beds, too, but no expectations. If they don't - well, I feel guilty about it, but it's cheaper to take them to the dump than anything else. No one even wants them for free, which is weird. I thought sure some students somewhere would be happy to take them away. Of course, that supposes that students would have a way to pick them up, which I suppose is a limiting factor.
Next weekend will be a big push to pack up the rest of everything and shove it into a POD. I think we're having the POD delivered on Friday. It turns out it's cheaper if we can do it in a two-week chunk, so we'll have it until August 6th. But it will be easier if we can get it empty, or close to, by then end of Sunday, August 1st. Less frantic that way. But we still have the kitchen to pack, and the closets, and random crap that will end up in random boxes and then something critical will go missing, because that's how this sort of thing always works. So I'm looking forward to that. No, really.
If anyone wants to help, or point and laugh while we flail, feel free to come by. If I had done the kitchen as I'd planned, we would still be on track, but I fell down on that one. Oh well, win some, lose some. Marbles.
I did not pack up the kitchen this past weekend, so I failed in that plan. Meh. I did manage to get some basic cleaning done, and go through some more things to get rid of, and I even went to yoga yesterday morning at the studio. Which turned into a stretch and chat with myself and Laurel, as no one else showed up, so she was just walking me through positions and stretches and giving me an unscheduled private lesson, really. I do think I'll try to make it to that on Sundays from now on, as my tendons have been strenuously suggesting that I am far too tense and I need to stretch more. So we'll see how it goes. 930 doesn't sound that early, until it's Sunday morning, and you're exhausted and want nothing more than to sleep until 9 or so, but you have to get up and eat before 845 so that you aren't sick during class, and be ready to leave the house at 910. I know, hard life. But I am so not a morning person.
The weekend started with all these grand plans. Friday night was busy, as we went from office party (Scott's employer) to feed a friend's cats, to feed our cats, to Clarion party. That last included a very long walk up a very steep hill - well, it was not so long as all that, but plenty steep - as we'd miscued where it was and parked further away than intended. The party was nice, the house was really quite something, up on the top of Queen Anne with a gorgeous view, and we went home tired. Cue up Saturday.
Saturday started with a run to my friend's house to feed her cats again, breakfast time. One of them, the eldest at oh, I think she's 19 or so, wasn't with the others when I did a head count. There are five cats, but only one smokey gray, and so I panicked, calling for her, looking for her, desperately hoping I would not have make a horrific phone call ... and she was asleep on Michelle's bed. I walked up to her, heart in my throat, and when I was just a foot away, she sprang up, startled and confused, and I leaned on the wall and breathed in relief. Yeesh. OK cats, let's all go be quiet and eat nicely.
A couple hours later I went to dance, which was fantastic. The studio had a "Class in the Grass" day, where we had modern class out at Greenlake park for two hours, outside in the sunshine. Luckily there was some sunshine, or it would have been COLD. But the sun came out, and I had sunblock and my short sleeved Exit Space hoodie on, and I felt prepared. We ran, we pranced, we jumped A LOT, we partnered up and did weight-sharing and lifts and cartwheels and headstands, and boy, am I still sore. Which is part of why I was motivated to go to yoga yesterday - all of my muscles were crying "Help ME!" in a little The Fly voice, and they still are, but less so. But it was good, and it felt good.
After that I was pretty much done for doing anything the rest of the day, which is why nothing got packed on Saturday. Then Saturday night we went to see "Despicable Me" at the Cinnebarre, and it was SOOOOOO CUTE and funny. I laughed a lot. I awwed a lot. I leaned over to Scott and cackled "Boogie Robots" on more than one occasion, unable to control myself. That last one will probably be a continuing trend. Because that's the way I roll. I'd totally see it again.
Sunday started with the yoga, and then I ran a couple errand and went home, and ate food, and ... didn't move off of the couch for several hours. I read a book. I watched some pointless tv. I thought about all the stuff that needed to get done. (Scott was at a soccer game, and so not there to help motivate.) Finally about 4 p.m. I managed to convince myself to get some stuff done in 15 minute increments. I cleaned the bathroom for 15 minutes. Then I did dishes/cleaned the kitchen for 15 minutes. Then I picked up for 15 minutes. This got the place into a "I can live with that" sort of shape, and I felt less disgusting. But I did not pack. I did put a few dishes and a few sheets and posters into a pile to give away. But that's it. Oh well. Better luck next weekend. Because the weekend after that, we move!
The new-new phone should come today. Yay. Scott is at home waiting for it, and also the Salvation Army truck, which is taking away unwanted furniture and random crap. We hold out some hope that they'll take the water beds, too, but no expectations. If they don't - well, I feel guilty about it, but it's cheaper to take them to the dump than anything else. No one even wants them for free, which is weird. I thought sure some students somewhere would be happy to take them away. Of course, that supposes that students would have a way to pick them up, which I suppose is a limiting factor.
Next weekend will be a big push to pack up the rest of everything and shove it into a POD. I think we're having the POD delivered on Friday. It turns out it's cheaper if we can do it in a two-week chunk, so we'll have it until August 6th. But it will be easier if we can get it empty, or close to, by then end of Sunday, August 1st. Less frantic that way. But we still have the kitchen to pack, and the closets, and random crap that will end up in random boxes and then something critical will go missing, because that's how this sort of thing always works. So I'm looking forward to that. No, really.
If anyone wants to help, or point and laugh while we flail, feel free to come by. If I had done the kitchen as I'd planned, we would still be on track, but I fell down on that one. Oh well, win some, lose some. Marbles.