A day in the life...

Well, my best plans for waking up at a decent hour and starting to work failed me. I slept in again today, and then realized that the Office suite Dr. Boy needs to install on the new computer isn't here. No Word = no resume, and no Excel = no summer budget to console my sweet, patient boyfriend, and no reconciliation of the year's worth of expenses that we have never settled that were fried on the old laptop.

Huzzah! Another day bumming with the cats and reading the Julie/Julia blog. I read it a few times a year because it reminds me of the time working at Prep School when I would read each new post with my coffee. The only bad thing about Julie/Julia (apart from the writing, which I imagine they cleaned up for the book) is that it makes me want kitchen gadgets. Julie Powell is the reason I once owned 7 Microplane graters. And, Dr. Boy's fear and loathing of kitchen gadgets is why I now have only 3. Today I find myself longing for a marble pastry board again. I've looked on 3 cooking store websites, and there is difference of $80!!! Well, call me a charlatan, but I'm buying the el cheapo, dishwasher-safe one. Right after I get off my couch.

I have to say that I love my dishwasher. I lived without one for 12 years, and now I can't get enough of it. I'm so completely enamored that I have become one of those grown-up twits that unloads it just because it's clean so that it's ready for the next use. Y'know, instead of frantically unloading it so that you can load it with all of the dishes crammed on the counter as you a) try to cook or b) try to get to bed.

I cleaned up a bit. In part because our fancy sink is clogged and needs a repairman. Stupid fancy sink. Why can't I just pull the damned stopper out? And, since we are pigs, the bathroom was disgusting and needed a scrubdown before I asked one of the guys from the building in to see it. So, I cleaned the bathroom, then straightened the bedroom, and organized my closet. Grumpy helped me fold laundry, and then I moved into the den. I have decided to leave the aerobed up until next Saturday. We are all enjoying it too much to take it away, but Kevin & Shane are coming in on Sunday and I'll need clean linens on it. It's become the Isle du Cat, with at least once cat on it at all times. Grumpy spent the morning threatening Playful in a voice so high that it sounds like a tape deck being played at the wrong speed. And so they move, in slow-motion, synchronized. They groan and snore like old men. And when they fight they sounds like the babies down the hall when they get to wailing.

The nanny brought one of the twins into the hall in a fit, and the noise sent me running to the bedroom to break up yet another cat fight. Instead of fur-flinging fury, I found Bitty and Grumpy sitting on the bed looking terrified of the "cat being pummeled" in the hall. I got back to the den to realize that Playful was now howling threateningly in his sleep. Pretty funny. He's out like a light, snoring, and periodically issuing a meow of death.

XOXO,

M