When Amy Feral Fowler comes in for her afternoon nap, she usually camps out on the love seat in the living room. When she comes in for the night, she usually camps out on the love seat in the living room. I’m starting to think I should check this area for cat hair.
I’m waiting for a work project so I’m scrambling to get stuff done around the house and to get some fiction writing done. I’ve had more progress on the former. The later requires some concentration and no distractions which is a little hard to achieve this summer.
The city has some contractors running around town, digging up water mains and making a tremendous racket. Our street is not immune. In addition there’s my neighbor who has a knack for firing up his riding lawnmower when it is quiet. He moves at about 1/2 mph in this thing so it takes him for-fucking-ever to mow the damn thing. And then there’s this little kid with a pogo stick. That noise was amusing the first day. It’s no longer the first day. I don’t know how much energy that little fucker has but he can pogo for HOURS! So yeah, plenty of jobs around the house are getting done.
Right now there’s no construction, the lawn next door is mowed, and the pogo stick may have been confiscated by someone in the neighborhood. In addition Carjo had a rough night and is drifting into naptime. So I’ve got Sansa sleeping behind me, a fresh can of Diet Coke, and a blank page ahead of me. Back to it.