I had a whoooole week off for spring break. I did a little of my own research–studied up on some beta software coming out, that kinda thing. I also cleaned house, took care of vet appointments, started running again, and ate lunch out more than I should. So why did I stay up til 2 am most nights? What could I be doing that was so important?
I was rearranging the music in my online library. Adding songs into playlists that should have been there, looking for gaps in my music…I heard “Right Down the Line” while I was running one day and realized I did not have that song in my library! Or Solsbury Hill! How could I have such a huge gap in music from the 1970’s? These were the wrongs in my universe I was trying to fix. I’m listening to Old Man from Neil Young as we speak. Or as I type. Whatever.
The point is this; I don’t know how to truly relax. At least, not while at home. See, you plant me on a beach somewhere and I am more than happy to sit on my ass and do almost nothing. Because even I know you can’t tidy a beach.
On another note, I’ve decided the cat has found another way to try and kill me–out of frustration. She knows my weakness.
See, in our living room we have a high traffic area–so I bought a rug to help keep a dark patch off our carpet. Smart, yes? Except every time I walk across it, I almost trip and kill myself. Because kitteh has decided it is a great hiding place. She will place a paw under the rug until there’s a small bump, and then she will wiggle her way underneath. And then majorly mess it up.
And I don’t think she’s trying to kill me by tripping me–I she’s not dumb enough to keep up the same failed plot. No, I think she’s trying to kill me by waiting for my blood pressure get the best of me. Because I simply cannot NOT tidy it. Evil, furry bastard.