Today's Muse: Cities of Paper

Am slowly, but surely, putting the base into order.

It started Christmas morning, when I awoke with post-its stuck randomly all over the walls where they hadn't been before and fuzzy skin-thing gloves on. Later that crazy, children-and-bouncy-castle-filled day I remembered what transpired the night before, and what the hell I meant by "Irish Blue Beer".

Tell Thalia it's all very well and good to have them fabled bursts of creativity at god knows in the morn, but no use if you conk out immediately afterward at desk. Plus it huuurts.

So, days later, I type this from the floor, with about two dollars to my name. I have just learnt I cannot move any furniture to where I want to until February. I am heartily sick of tip-toeing about Feng Shui sensibilities, and I want soup.

I wrote earlier about being able to "finally keel over and die". HAH. More work has come in. Fine and dandy, I like work.

Which is why in addition to school and the workload planned for next year I have decided to do up the base. And possibly the rest of the house. Get rid of that filthy maternity-ward green her husband picked out. Well, he hasn't set foot in this place, has he, eh? And it doesn't look like he will, hm? And the rest of us have to tip-toe around your moods and live with you so you can fulfill your "all family under one roof" fantasy, eh? EH? WHILE YOU TREAT THE REST OF US LIKE TENANTS, YOU BITTER BITTER PERSON-THING.

And so concludes the annual post-holiday tirade. Thank you and see you next year.