Doctored Tea for the Disgruntled Soul

I like it when Bebe is all full of piss'n'vinegar...I like to pick her up and have her squirming and "let me go!" and I scratch her head and tickle her tummy and I tell her "I love the fur yer in!" (stealing from some tv commercial - yeah, advertising works) and then I let her go...she is life personified, a mission in the midst of, and it doesn't matter than she's chasing scraps of toilet paper that have been shredded and forgotten by Sissy on the bottom of the tub...she has to do that, right NOW. She hops out of the tub with two scraps stuck on her back (the cat equivalent of toilet paper stuck to the sole of your shoe in a public place?), and races out of the bathroom. I sit and continue my penance for the food I've ingested the previous 36 hours or so, she's in the kitchen meowing about something, then races back in and sits, tail twitching, ears half flattened, glaring at me with half lidded eyes. "I'm not quite done yet," I tell her. Impasse.

Yesterday, Darren the landlord came over with an electrician for part of the morning to install electric fire alarms, which included digging a hole through the wall near the ceiling in the living room, and where they hadn't decided until then where to put it so I couldn't move things out on my own so plaster dust - all over the stereo, on the cd cases and ornaments, on the floor in the crevices that my vacuum cleaner (without attachments) can get at. They were going to put the alarm right by the stove/oven...I vetoed that idea, thinking, "are ya daft?" I still have the two battery operated alarms in place, don't know if that is necessary, as the electric one has a battery backup. I guess when the other two start beeping, I'll take the battery out and that will be that.

Last night three wierd things happened in a very short sequence - first, my computer crashed - the first time since Dave doctored it, and I think it was because I had epitonic radio going, playing yahoo canasta, had yahoo IM open, and was surfing a message board all at once. A little too much to handle, apparently, what with yahoo acting funny for all four of us playing. So I restarted the computer, and whilst doing so, one of the boys downstairs came home, slamming doors and swearing loudly, so I went to look out the front window to see if it was Donavon or Mike, and as I'm gawking out the window, watch two boys go stomping to the shack next door to me, one swinging a tire iron. I kept an ear out for the neighbors - all of them, and silently wished myself to be somewhere else...anywhere else. It was all quiet after that, but still...I told Darren I was thinking about moving and he was somewhat surprised but then plotting his move to this suite - I can understand why with the space, but it will be interesting to see how he feels about this place after living here for a year. Mind, he'll keep the garage and will be able to "monitor" the downstairs suites much better from this vantage point, and will be daily going back to the garage so to keep an eye on the back suite. It will likely work out better for him, better for me.

I've not called Ron for a few days...don't know what is going on with him. He was supposed to find out if he loses his house on Monday. I know he's trying to sell things to pay the mortgage that he owes, and he feels fragile with the depression and anxiety that he is reluctant to see anybody about. When Colin came over the other day, he told me that his mother was getting much worse and he didn't know how much longer she was going to live - she's got cancer. He's living there, presumably to help out but is really just feeling like the whipping boy for his father, who blames him for everything. He's looking to move at the end of the month...but he's been looking to move at the end of the month for the last four years, so who knows? He bought himself a truck though and seems to have direction and drive, something he's not had for many years, what with dealing with his gambling addiction. I look at them and realize my lot isn't so bad, could be much much worse.

I've not done anything creative for the past two days besides taking pages from magazines for further collage/altered books. The kitchen table is a mess from the previous works. Dishes are soaking in the sink. School is about to be let out in a matter of minutes, and I don't know what I'm going to do to fill the afternoon before I go to work.

xoxo
lili