Dear Reader,
Word Raccoon began the morning by testing the solar lights predawn and yanking them out of the front yard and tossing them over by the fence when they didn’t light up.
They may or may not eventually make it to the thrift shop.
The problem is that even if they worked properly, she now knows she doesn’t actually like them. During the daylight hours, they look like decorative spiders.
No thank you.
Afterwards, WR had peanut butter toast, a banana, and coffee (she almost didn’t speak to me today when she discovered she is out of C.Z. Again.) while she negotiated with Stanley over the day which he insisted she not let devolve into Project House.
We compromised by setting a timer for thirty minutes with the goal of stopping wherever we were on the towel cabinet at that point.
This should be viewed in light of the fact that last night it took her three separate attempts to successfully take her medicine.
First she set an alarm.
Then she got up to take the pill, became distracted, and wandered away.
When the snooze alarm went off, she once again rose with purpose, only to become distracted a second time.
By the third attempt, she was midway through assembling the towel cabinet when she realized she still had not taken the medicine.
Barry tried talking to her while she was heading into the house, but to avoid losing the thought again, she just kept saying, “pill pill pill pill pill pill pill” while holding up her finger and walking away.
Eventually, success.
Anyway, back to the cabinet. Which she sensibly did not finish assembling while cranky last night.
It came with screws for the back panels but no pre-drilled holes, which felt like a test devised by our rheumatologist.
WR’s hands were not strong enough to simply force the screws in normally, so she held each in place with the screwdriver, tapped it with a hammer to start it, and then hammered them into place.
It worked. And as long as no one inspects the back of the cabinet, she’s feeling pretty proud of herself.
Feeling smug after attaching the backs to both the upper and lower sections (even though the directions said not to do that yet), she then discovered she had created a problem.
The cam locks that connected the two cabinet sections were now inaccessible.
She briefly thought she might have to rip the back off one of the units entirely.
However, earlier in the process, she had accidentally installed the drawer backwards and had been forced to remove and reverse the drawer tracks. (It took no time.) Which turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because she was now extremely aware of where the drawer-track screws were located.
A quick twist, and success! (Let us not examine the left side too closely.)
The first project of the summer can now safely be crossed off the list, and this before summer proper.
Applause, please.
Also, importantly, Word Raccoon turned the timer off two minutes before it went off because she knew she was close enough to the end that stopping would actually be more irritating than continuing. Once she had finished, she stopped with the projects and got ready for writing time.
I’m counting that as personal growth for her.
Now she is trying the “stay on the café porch while shivering” challenge because she so badly wants to be here. It promises to be a nice morning later, but right now, she’s thinking going indoors might be the move.
After what she hopes will be a productive writing session, then will come all the emailing, product review writing, admin, and so on.
She likes that too, but not as much as writing, obviously.
Later she will place the towel cabinet in its new home and christen it something ridiculously fun.
Why do you suppose cursors blink? That’s so much pressure when you’re trying to write.
On the (usually) daily,
Drema
dremadrudge.com 