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Yeah, right.
Mar. 17th, 2006 11:00 amYou thought I was going to redo my LJ in green or something for the day?
On behalf of the Irish part of my family, I wish everyone a happy March 17 but noooooo.... no redesign. The entire point of this post, by the way, is to avoid housework.
What can I tell you that you don't already know? I'm so glad tomorrow's Friday, even though I have to work on Saturday. Even though this morning the last thing I wanted to do was wake up and make the kid's lunch and drive her to school and come back here and clean up. But I have a lunch date (aren't you all so shocked, shocked I say!) and it would be nice if there wasn't crap all over the place. We're such little spreader-outers around here. Things pile up. Then I have to go through like a cleansing tornado and spirit things back to their rightful spaces and that's just the way it goes.
I'm not now and have never been a neat freak. I have a Gemini ascendant: my brain lives in piles of things and stacks of paper and they may not make sense to another soul as far as the day is long, but I know where everything is. Put things away and I'm lost. I like things at my fingertips. Obsessive neatness destroys me.
I even like my spiders that live in the corners of the windows. So sue me. It's just the boxelders I can't stand.
Here's a conversation from Monday:
Mrs. J? We've got you scheduled for the delivery of your new chair on Friday between 9 and noon. Does that work for you?
Sure does. I'll be here.
It'll be much closer to 9 than to noon. In fact, probably right at nine. Is that okay?
You bet. *click*
It's 11:00. No chair. No call. Why am I not surprised? Just tired. As we say in the home, I'm so tired I don't know how tired I am. I feel like I was running all over 17th-century Japan all night long.
Hey. Maybe I was. My sword-wielding muscles are sore, too.
*cough*
Time to sheathe that katana and get my ass moving. And of course, today of all days when I have far too much going on to sit down and focus, original fic wants to be written. Doesn't that kind of suck.
On behalf of the Irish part of my family, I wish everyone a happy March 17 but noooooo.... no redesign. The entire point of this post, by the way, is to avoid housework.
What can I tell you that you don't already know? I'm so glad tomorrow's Friday, even though I have to work on Saturday. Even though this morning the last thing I wanted to do was wake up and make the kid's lunch and drive her to school and come back here and clean up. But I have a lunch date (aren't you all so shocked, shocked I say!) and it would be nice if there wasn't crap all over the place. We're such little spreader-outers around here. Things pile up. Then I have to go through like a cleansing tornado and spirit things back to their rightful spaces and that's just the way it goes.
I'm not now and have never been a neat freak. I have a Gemini ascendant: my brain lives in piles of things and stacks of paper and they may not make sense to another soul as far as the day is long, but I know where everything is. Put things away and I'm lost. I like things at my fingertips. Obsessive neatness destroys me.
I even like my spiders that live in the corners of the windows. So sue me. It's just the boxelders I can't stand.
Here's a conversation from Monday:
Mrs. J? We've got you scheduled for the delivery of your new chair on Friday between 9 and noon. Does that work for you?
Sure does. I'll be here.
It'll be much closer to 9 than to noon. In fact, probably right at nine. Is that okay?
You bet. *click*
It's 11:00. No chair. No call. Why am I not surprised? Just tired. As we say in the home, I'm so tired I don't know how tired I am. I feel like I was running all over 17th-century Japan all night long.
Hey. Maybe I was. My sword-wielding muscles are sore, too.
*cough*
Time to sheathe that katana and get my ass moving. And of course, today of all days when I have far too much going on to sit down and focus, original fic wants to be written. Doesn't that kind of suck.
