cloudy

Why do I procrastinate? I know the chore, talk, etc., must be done. So I punish myself by feeling guilty that I do not have the energy or desire to get it done. I think it is a power thing with my parents, still. I am proving to myself that I am in control now. The control scares me. What if my decision fails? I've shown I am incapable.

The black cloud takes its sweet time moving across the sky of my psyche.

Life's lessons learned

The worker bees painted the brick and wood on the outside of my apartment yesterday. I understand deadlines and the need for efficiency, but why can't the guys put things back where they found them? At least the men picked up the trash.

I woke up with a cough, which could mean bronchitis. But maybe not.

Jayla usually comes to vacuum on Tuesdays. I called her at the last minute to change the time for her to come. Then the plans that prompted the change fell through. I decided to go to bed and left a note and her money in a sealed envelope and taped it to the door.

Lying there, my conscience began to holler about how unfair to Jayla to let her drive all the way over here. So I called her and told her I would double her pay next week, and that I felt terrible.

I opened the door to retrieve the envelope with the money and note. Someone had taken it.

Thus my day tanked. Not so much because I lost the money, but because I trust people.

We shall see how today goes.

Strange as it may seem, I opened the door this morning and the unopened envelope was on the ground just outside the screen door. I looked there yesterday and it was not there. Today it was. Hmmmm.

IMYD

The necessaries

Today I hope to accomplish lots of household type chores, though most of them involve leaving the apartment. No. 1 on the list -- my computer. Poor old lady acquired the imminent virus, so I am taking her to catmandu for a cure, I hope. If the cost of fixing her exceeds her worth, I may consider trading her in for a newer model.

The cupboards look like that nursery rhyme, so that warrants a trip to the grocery. The price of meat makes me consider vegetarianism. I also need to drop by the bank.

The list does not go on forever but my body will feel it by the end of the day.

An all purpose store

If I am not doing much living, I might as well die. Before you panic and call the authorities, I do not think dying provides the proper solution. I mean I am doing a poor job of using the living time I am alloted, and I wish to work on this living thing.

I should put as much effort into activities as I do sleep. Or at least keep the apartment clean. I admit I own OCD tendencies. Everything has a place and everything is in its place. I also tend to procrastinate, so messiness builds its dam with cracks. The pressure continues until an OCD episode washes me away.

I spend a considerable amount of time looking for a purpose. The task seems unreachable. I cannot go to the local purpose store, compare choices and decide I will take that one.
Purpose usually does not knock on your door asking for your attention.

Purpose requires effort, hard work, devotion. Most adults find their purpose last before their hair turns grey.

IMYD

A tail of two kitties

Listen my children to a story about how one cat became two.

Though not quite in the cat lady category, I do love cats about as much as I do Wonderful (get crackin') pistachios. One of my FB friends posted a painting of R2D2 she had done. I am not much of a robot fan, but I hoped she could transfer that style into a painting of a cat.

Despite her surgery she said she could do that for me. I did not expect the painting for awhile but was delighted when she said her husband mailed it and it should arrive Wednesday.

Wednesday came without a painting. The artist called the P.O. to track the package. Officials said they stamped the package, but they did not show it had left the facility.

We waited a couple of days. In the meantime, the friend painted a totally different kitty.

Around the time she mailed the new kitty, the original kitty arrived.

Today, the two kitties share space of honor beside the new kitty tree

Raking the Muck

So, I am writing.

I have not gone anywhere or done anything but sleep for the past week.

One day this week, the air conditioner air vent decided to leak -- again. Half my inventory of electronic gear got wet, including my phone and computer. The Incredible Hulk moved the desk away from the impending peril. Mind you the weight of the desk far exceeds the limit set by Doc.

With all the moving around, I unplugged the router briefly. I then could not get the router to work. The bossy little message kept asking for a password.

I went into journalism because I cannot do math is one of those inside jokes. Do not misunderstand, some journalists excel at math. I am not one of them. Experts say to make passwords that you will remember. Have separate passwords for each device, and do not write them down anywhere. Use random letters, numbers and symbols. You know how many passwords I use on a daily basis? Websites you visit sporadically pose the real problem. How many oddball passwords can this journalist remember six months after submitting them?

I had no idea what password I picked, and only days passed since I chose it. I tried a couple with no luck. The situation meant I would have to call for help.

A woman named Kath answered my call. After about 20 minutes of try this, the machines meshed again. Crisis diverted, stress resumes normal level, definitely time for a nap.

In the next exciting installment of "Muckraking or My Life as I See It," read "A Tale of Two Kitties."

Safe 'que

I went to a barbecue yesterday. Although 14 people came to eat and talk, I handled the situation well. Of course, everyone there shares a giant portion of my heart.

We attacked the food like a swarm of locusts annihilating a wheat field, yet when I left, 14 more people could have feasted on the leftovers.

The children and the dog behaved themselves and the godsons talked and laughed. Papaw and Corey manned the grill. I furnished Blue Bell ice cream and waffle cones. Mamaw made her famous macaroni salad. One godson made potato salad and his significant other did beans.

Going to a gathering ranks high on my stress meter. Noise makes me uncomfortable and after so much of it, I flee. I managed a couple of hours before leaving.

Momo made his way on and up the cat tree today. I got photos, just like a proud mom when her son takes his first step. He looked around, and kinda went humph, what is all the excitement about this, and promptly jumped down.

I think I hear a nap calling.

IMYD