(no subject)
Tinslemasu is over, hori horo.
The apartment is aged and, for now, empty. The cat is a shy phantom of a beast. My first night I spent solitarily staring at my clutter. She was nowhere to be coaxed or even heard. When I got home from work, however, her bowl was eerie and empty. This blessed morning when nothing went right, I was brushing my teeth in the hall and turned to find her staring at me from Alex's doorframe.
"Good morning sweetheart." Pippa ignored me and stalked directly to my room, smearing herself against the boxes before digging her claws into the red sofa (Go!Go!7188).
"Nah-uh, kitty." I didn't want claw marks on it so I went in to break that noise up. She didn't ignore me when I gently grasped both paws to dislodge them, mewing in an ill-tempered way.
I'd managed to blow a fuse last night which has surprisngly never happened before. The stove, the fridge, and every socket in the house is dead as a doornail. I wasn't too concerned as my lights still worked and the alarm clock on my keitai was still charged. I went downstairs and banged loudly on Alice's door. She's a dear on oxygen. She turned up the heat for me and called it quits. Her son is supposed to be around this afternoon to fix things. I truly hope so. I am honestly too tired to even be annoyed.
This part of Brooklyn is remote, on the other side of Prospect Park and close to Greenwood cemetary. The commute was grand. No fighting to get on the train, I even got a seat. I left 10 minutes late and still managed to get in on time.
Exhausted. Two rehearsals in 4 days. Fortunately nothing new is being added so I think things will look good. We're set to go on just after the count, spreading the yosa-koi love for intoxicated rich folk. It's going to rock, indeed.
Don't feel like working. Or eating. Want nap.
The apartment is aged and, for now, empty. The cat is a shy phantom of a beast. My first night I spent solitarily staring at my clutter. She was nowhere to be coaxed or even heard. When I got home from work, however, her bowl was eerie and empty. This blessed morning when nothing went right, I was brushing my teeth in the hall and turned to find her staring at me from Alex's doorframe.
"Good morning sweetheart." Pippa ignored me and stalked directly to my room, smearing herself against the boxes before digging her claws into the red sofa (Go!Go!7188).
"Nah-uh, kitty." I didn't want claw marks on it so I went in to break that noise up. She didn't ignore me when I gently grasped both paws to dislodge them, mewing in an ill-tempered way.
I'd managed to blow a fuse last night which has surprisngly never happened before. The stove, the fridge, and every socket in the house is dead as a doornail. I wasn't too concerned as my lights still worked and the alarm clock on my keitai was still charged. I went downstairs and banged loudly on Alice's door. She's a dear on oxygen. She turned up the heat for me and called it quits. Her son is supposed to be around this afternoon to fix things. I truly hope so. I am honestly too tired to even be annoyed.
This part of Brooklyn is remote, on the other side of Prospect Park and close to Greenwood cemetary. The commute was grand. No fighting to get on the train, I even got a seat. I left 10 minutes late and still managed to get in on time.
Exhausted. Two rehearsals in 4 days. Fortunately nothing new is being added so I think things will look good. We're set to go on just after the count, spreading the yosa-koi love for intoxicated rich folk. It's going to rock, indeed.
Don't feel like working. Or eating. Want nap.