I'm getting there, slowly but surely...
"Slowly" being the operative word in that sentence.
So far, I've gone to the store and got the TV cabinet where I want it and the bookshelf that was gonna go where I put the TV cabinet cleaned and close to where it's gonna wind up. The TV cabinet, I put right next to my pooter desk. Tapes inside it, as opposed to sitting on a chair like they were, and the TV I use on top.I figured this out right after I installed the bookshelf in that space and got all the tapes in it. I sat here looking at it and not really liking it much, then the TV cabinet popped into my head and ta-da. Now, I'm gonna put the bookshelf in the bathroom and try to condense all the books in there into it. I guess it'd help to explain that it's more of a freestanding bookshelf than a real shelf, as in "board ya set shit on that's nailed to the wall". I don't know what it was in it's previous life, but it's gonna hold books now. Shuffling shit around in here is creating a few little cleaning jobs along the way, so it's taking a little longer than I thought it would, but it is lookin' good. I'm also about to be forced beyond reason to stop what I'm doing and beat the snot out of that yappy fuckhole dog out there if she doesn't STFU. She is really and truly starting to piss me off now. Stupid, mouthy (typical woman) bitch. It wouldn't be so bad if she'd at least occasionally bark at something REAL, but noooooo. Little asshole barks more often than she frickin' breathes, for fucks sake. Only way to shut her the fuck up, short of a tracheotomy or a board upside her head, is to bring her in the house.
Which I just did.
Bitch. Anyway... I need to go install the bookcase/shelf thing, do a load of wash and dishes, now that Eric is in for the night and brought in with him an armload of thermal cups outta the parlor. He takes one with coffee in it every morning. Be nice if he'd bring 'em back the same way--- one at a time. But again... nooooo. He keeps taking them, every day, til there are none left in here, then he brings 'em in (in a wheelbarrow) and fills my sink with cow-pooped-on cups. And AND, he usually does this less than 90 seconds after I drain the water after having just washed the damned dishes. Good thing he's cute.
And hung.
(Not that it does ME any good *rolls eyes*, but it IS still nice to know and it does save his life about three times a week... *grin*) Okay then... on that note, I'm goin' back to re-arranging, cleaning and tweaking in here, then it's out to the carport, with the hair and nails coming last.
I've at least got that much figured out. No sense doing the nails (or hair) til after I'm done outside. I can see me now, going through all that aggravation with the nailtips, then screwin' 'em all up out there, so no. Also kinda pointless to go through all the mess with the hair, only to sweat and dust it up cleaning that disaster area, so... might as well get that shit done first. Beisdes, it makes more sense to get the hard shit done first and the "extra", "personal pampering" kinda shit done later, right? Of course, that philosophy could be why it is I never have time for myself. Whatever. Sitting here ruminating on it ain't gonna make it go any faster, now is it? Yes, I'm shutting up now.
Well, FOR now, anyway. Tawk to ya's late-a...
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