I'm failing time management today. I spent nearly all the daylight hours alternating between working on the sisal craft project, and lying around trying to work out the horrible kinks in my back and resting my throbbing hands from said project. By the time I looked up at the clock, it was after four. Technically, I could have made it taking the kitten to the shelter, to the agreed upon weekly dip (as opposed to twice a week), but that would have involved moving faster than my aching back would allow, and rush hour traffic that did not appeal to me. It was more likely that had we gone at that time of day, I would not have gotten her dropped off in time to make it to water aerobics. This either makes me a very bad pet foster mommy, or the greatest pet mommy ever (in her eyes), because I am letting her go one more day before that awful treatment. She has been awfully sweet to me all day. Maybe that nasty dip was affecting her mood as much as her skin. I know it affects me negatively.
Spending hours with a staple gun and rope is not the most intellectually engaging activity. To say the mind wanders is a massive understatement. If I were a dedicated woman, I would have completely planned out today's blog, in three-part harmony, with 8 x 10 color glossy photos, and all that. But no, nothing so lofty. With each staple and twist of the blanket chest, I pondered exactly what I would do with that obscenely large Powerball jackpot this week. The man and I have been talking about what happens when we are done with our nomadic lifestyle, and finally settle in one place (assumably back in Colorado). Well, today, in my mind, that retirement home became an elaborate artists colony, covering acres of land, with separate houses for all my artistic family members, and the most epic multi-disciplinary art studio I could dream up.
Yes, I will buy a few tickets, but I never spend more money than I could afford to lose in the pocket of a jacket sent to the dry cleaners. There is a valid reason I have referred to lottery tickets as "beers" for years. It only costs a few dollars, provides a warm, fuzzy feeling that is often accompanied by a little distance from reality, and by the morning it is obvious you just pissed your money away. But for those hours, the buzz sure is fun. I think I'll grab a few beers tomorrow.
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